Slaves Of Blood
by Japan's Arc Angel
Summary: Book I: Muggleborn Hermione Granger enters Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, only to find herself thrown into slavery. Serving under her hateful Master, Ronald Weasley, she strives to survive and prove herself worthy of the magic stolen from her. Refusing to accept the life she has been forced into, she battles against the Weasley's, the establishment and her own demons.
1. Chapter One: Invitation To Hogwarts?

_Sooo here's my first chapter, an obvious AU which will undoubtedly includes some OOC. Try not to judge until at least a few chapters in please and do enjoy. Updates depend upon reviews, and I've got some pretty exciting chapters planned! Thanks to everyone who reads._

_Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes :P_

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><p><span>Chapter One: Invitation To Hogwarts?<span>

It was a sun-kissed morning on the first of September as the clustered Granger family made their way through London's Kingscross Station, a small train ticket held in the hand of an eleven year old Hermione, her bushy hair swivelling about her head as she gazed from side to side looking for her particular platform. "Dad," She began in a clearly confused and innocent voice, "Platform nine and three quarters? Does that even exist?" Strangely, this was the first time that Hermione had ever come to question the letter that she had received but a few months earlier. It had been a normal morning, like any other, when the three of them were eating breakfast before the morning school-run and a rattle could be heard as the post fell through the letterbox and flopped onto the little rug by the large white front door of their cosy home. "I'll get it!" She had cried, running towards the door hurriedly, scooping up a selection of letters and packages, sifting them into piles for her mother and father. She took them back into the kitchen and sat back in her own chair, where her toast remained half eaten as she opened a single letter addressed to her directly. "Mother, have you been talking to crazy people again and giving out our address? I've got another letter from one of the strange people at the dentist inviting me to go to a magic school in September." She had questioned, staring curiously at her mother. However, her father looked at his daughter ludicrously,

"What are you talking about?"

"This Minerva McGonagall , which one is she?" Her parents looked at one another and then back to her. And that's where it had all started; a blurry haze of visits from the deputy headmistress Professor McGonagall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and an exciting trip to Diagon Alley, a cobbled wizarding alley and shopping area in London. The three of them had been led by Professor McGonagall down Charing Cross Road before coming to a small pub outwardly squeezed between a bookshop and a record shop, seemingly unnoticed by all others who were present in the street. They had wandered for hours, visiting various menageries and bookshops, stopping for coffees and treats, gathering the equipment she would need for her coming year. Their final stop had been Ollivanders Wand Shop which was situated on the south side of the alley. Peeling gold letters over the door of the shop read: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. with only a solitary wand lying as display on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. They had proceeded cautiously inside the tiny shop, empty except for a single, spindly chair in the corner. Thousands of narrow boxes, presumably containing wands, were piled right up to the ceiling, a thin layer of dust encircling the entire shop. And then he had appeared, as if from nowhere, a thin pale man with spindly white hair and silver eyes glinting at them almost suspiciously. Garrick Ollivander had studied them only momentarily, before asking their names and blood status.

"Well, Miss Granger, I know that we can find the right wand for you." In fact, the first he brought to her ignited a fire within her, the vine wood smooth under her finger tips, and perhaps a little long at ten and three-quarter inches, though feeling perfect. From the moment it touched her fingertips, she felt a connection, the electricity and power within her with each passing moment she held it. "Dragon heartstring, Miss Granger." Her ears had picked up,

"Dragon?" He nodded to her, seeing the awe and wonder etched into her face. She felt ready to undertake the long journey ahead of her, yet now as they stood between platforms nine and ten, the small family had become stuck, not knowing where next to go.

"It's the same year after year, packed with Muggles of course!" A plumpish woman bustled behind them, followed by four boys and a small girl, mumbling about the various complaints that she had. The children all possessed flaming red hair in contrast to their mothers darker shade of auburn, and were all heading confidently towards the wall between the two platforms. Taking the initiative, Mr Granger turned to the woman and hurried over,

"Excuse me. We're looking for the Hogwarts Express, we were wondering if...if..." He cleared his throat, but she gave the three of them a large smile,

"The platform?" He nodded slightly, and she looked towards Hermione,

"First year? Don't worry, it's Ronald's first time too," A small boy from behind her glared at the use of his name, blushing slightly, "Oh. Muggleborn too is it? Half-blood?" She looked down to Hermione, an eyebrow slightly raised in anticipation, "Muggleborn then. Right yes, perhaps we should..." She made a gesture towards her parents and the three adults moved over to discuss things further, as the woman began to explain how the wall worked. Hermione turned to the children next to her attempting a sweet smile. A set of older looking twins gave her a strange look, whilst the oldest looking of the bunch stared disapprovingly at her. She tried again to give a small smile, but was barely able to make eye contact with any of them. Suddenly the small girl spoke up,

"You're not pureblood are you?" She squeaked, causing Hermione to stutter and splutter, unsure of how to answer,

"Er-" She began, but was cut through,

"You're Muggleborn. I know what they do with people like _you_. The Minister won't let you stay about you know, filthy mudblood." She spat at her,

"Ginevra!" Snapped the boy of her own age, "Don't use that word!" She took in the anger on her older brother's face, but she looked at him defiantly.

"Daddy's already told me what's going to happen!" She shouted at him, then turning back to Hermione, "She should just turn around and go home! Stay away from superior people like us!" The small girl made to go for Hermione and she backed away slightly scared of the feisty young Ginevra.

"What make you think you can talk to me that way?" She asked her genuinely, "You don't know me. We're not affiliated in any way and I doubt we ever will be. How can you be so prejudice?" Hermione felt more confident, staring at the child, waiting for an answer, though slightly regretting using the complex language that she had.

"Hey!" Ronald spat, standing in front of his sister, "Don't you speak to her like that! I'll make you live to regret insulting my sister." Hermione stared open-mouthed at the boy. She could admire his courage and loyalty, but his stupidity was another concern to her.

"Are you a bit dim? Do you not understand that that is completely hypocritical?"

"Oi." His hand reached slowly into his pocket and withdrew his wand, holding it threateningly in her direction, "You should be grateful I don't curse you." He spoke dangerously low, instilling a fear in her that she had never felt before. He seemed perilous now, not a sweet and embarrassed boy, hiding behind his mother.

"Hermione! Let's go darling!" Came the voice of Mrs Granger, to which Ronald quickly stored his wand away once more, though still glaring at her. She gave a last fleeting look, and then turned and ran to her mother, half cowering behind her.

"I am sorry about this," The mother of the brood professed, "With my husband Mr Weasley being called into work every few hours it's difficult with so many children to look after." The Grangers leant in and then shook hands, smiling widely,

"Not at all Molly. We hope to see you again soon of course!" Mr Granger added as Hermione was beckoned by her mother. She leant down to her daughter,

"Just walk straight through the wall. Even at a run the first time if you'd prefer. Go for it." She looked at her mother as if she was absolutely mad, but chose that, under the circumstances and all that had happened in the previous months, to just accept what she was being told to do and to trust it.

"You should get permission for us to come with you Hermione, so we can see what your new school is like." Her father looked at her questioningly,

"Dad. You know you can't silly. I promise I'll write to you." He looked down at her, studied her expression and then eventually smiled, "Okay. I trust you little lady." She smiled back up at him and then lifted up her trunk. Turning to face the wall between the two she gave a last reassuring glance towards her parents then gently strode towards the wall passing casually right through it, as if she had been doing so for years. Appearing on the other side, she turned back, only to face a seemingly solid wall again. She was absolutely amazed that she was unharmed, looking herself over just to doubt check. She breathed a sigh of relief and returned to face the train, yet that relief was short lived, as the red haired boy from before ran into the back of her with his trolley. She span around, fuming at her pain, to see him looking shocked at having almost run her over, but he quickly regained his composure and shuffled around her, not once looking back to her, not once apologising for the pain he had caused. Hermione dragged her trunk forward and took in the entire platform, which stretched further than she could see over the waves of heads. A giant 4-6-0 red steam engine was puffing away near the entrance, the Hogwarts Railway crest upon the side of each carriage. Stood towards the front carriage was a tall man wearing a red waistcoat, accompanied by a tanned leather jacket and hat. He noticed her, looking up from a small golden pocket watch and smiling, beckoning her over. Smiling, she walked to him,

"Good Morning Conductor."

"Well Little Lady, is this your first trip aboard the Hogwarts Express?" She nodded to him,

"Yes Sir. What a lovely little watch you have there." He smiled and showed it her more closely,

"It's enchanted. Helps me make sure everything is always on time." The Hogwarts Express engine head plaque was engraved on the top of the watch cover along with the engine number of the Hogwarts Express, 5972. On the reverse side the Hogwarts school crest and motto, Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus.

"Wait...Never Tickle A Sleeping Dragon? What kind of Latin motto is that?" Hermione giggled up at him.

"The Hogwarts motto of course! Here,"

He flipped it open to show her the face, the words 'Hogsmeade' on the top, 'King's Cross Station' on the bottom, with the left hand side reading: 'Late' and the right hand side reading: 'On time'. "Oh, you're a Muggleborn are you not?" He looked at her questioningly, but not at all disapprovingly.

"Yes Sir." She felt slightly downhearted by this, looking towards her feet.

"Yes, yes. I never was a fan of eating cameras; they really don't taste like apples you know. Well, you'd obviously know, are they meant to taste of something else?" Hermione stared at him, completely unable to decide whether he was being serious or not,

"Err, well, um..."

"Fine looking group of students this time. It'll be time to get underway soon." The Conductor smiled lazily at the hoard of people beginning to board the train.

"Yeah. I...I should go then. Get on board." She began to back off slightly, giving him a small wave and moving forwards, looking for Carriage E. As Hermione came across the carriage as one of the furthest back, she stepped on board, finding an empty compartment fairly quickly, choosing to sit by the window, watching as other students, both young and old, continued to board. She gave a huge sigh, preparing herself steadily, going over various spells in her mind which she had carefully studied from her new books, and excitedly twiddling her wand in her hands, almost able to feel the dragon heartstring core within it, waiting to be used and awakened. She squealed with excitement, happily thinking her way through the potions she'd be making, the history she'd be reading about the school, the incantations she'd learn and the Quidditch she'd be playing. That is what she was most excited about, a new sport, one that maybe, for the first time in her life; she could actually be good at. She had spent hours reading about flying techniques and thinking about the broomstick that one day she would hopefully procure.

The door to her compartment slid open and a bustling group of first years piled in, momentarily assuring themselves that she didn't mind their intrusion. They sat down around her, turning to face her, smiling excitedly.

"Hey!" Squealed a boy next to her, which made her smile, "Justin Finch-Fletchley, and you are?" He held out a hand to her which she took gratefully,

"Hermione Granger." She beamed, before turning to the boy across from her, who had also extended a hand,

"Kevin Entwhistle."

"Pleasure to meet you!"

"I'm beyond keyed up! I can't wait, I mean, who'd have thought magic actually existed?" Justin put a hand on her arm and shook it, causing her to laugh at him and smile playfully.

"Muggleborn right? My Mother almost had a heart attack!" They were gently chatting between the three of them, discussing their coming months and sharing stories of receiving the news of their magical ability, when the door to their compartment slid open. A girl, only a little older than themselves, with long curly brown hair and wearing long black robes accompanies by a blue and bronze tie, an eagle emblem stitched to her breast. She smiled pleasantly, but gave a sudden painful twitch, rubbing her ear slightly. Standing by the window, she stared at them all amiably.

"Hello dear Muggleborns, my name is Penelope Clearwater, and I am in the House of Ravenclaw. Now, it is my job to prepare you for what is about to become your life." The train began to slowly move, jolting slightly and leaving the station steadily. From where she sat, Hermione peered out of the window and could see various students leaning out of their carriages and waving to their loved ones as they moved forwards and began to round a corner and out of sight. She noted it odd that only the carriages ahead had students waving, those from her carriage onwards remained seated and silent, apparently with no one to say their last goodbyes to. "Now, as some of you may be aware from reading the more recent Daily Prophet, our new Minister has declared that for any Muggleborn to attend Hogwarts, they are no longer overly worthy in themselves, but are still an important asset to the magical world, and to those who are truly magical." Worried looks spread amongst the few of them, Hermione's face contorting wildly in dismay and confusion, yet Penelope continued to smile broadly at them. "Worry not, I myself am Muggleborn, and the life of helping and serving those higher than you is a pleasure. Worry not, no harm will come to you, and if you wish to, you can easily leave now. Once we reach Hogsmeade, if you wish to return home, you only have to remain aboard the train, your parents will be notified and you will be collected. If not, you will be transported to Hogwarts as a group."

"Excuse me," Interrupted Justin, "I come from a very wealthy family; I was destined for Eton before this. You cannot possibly expect me to serve others." Hermione looked to him strangely,

'Money? The Finch-Fletchley's? They're practically royalty!' She gaped at him, unsure of why he had even bothered to talk to her, such an unknown person as herself, completely new to her current surroundings and the world of money.

"Well, you have the option to leave." Penelope pushed, "Your Muggle money has no place here, only your birth rights."

"Wait," Chipped in Hermione, "Just because we're 'Muggleborn' it doesn't mean we have no rights. Muggleborn's are just those whose line has been lost. We're all descended from magic, even if it's skipped a few generations, we can't just have no rights at all!" She was beginning to get angrier the more she listened to the nonsense that had reached her ears. All of the money she had spent upon her equipment, the hours she had put in pre-reading and learning ahead of the term, now seemed wasted and useless. She stood, facing up to Penelope, drawing herself to her full, though still short height. The elder girl studied Hermione carefully before deciding to speak,

"You girl. Your name."

"Granger. Hermione Granger." She said defiantly.

"Hermione," She said sternly, adding a softer, "Dear, do you wish to remain at Hogwarts? Learn magic and become a better witch in yourself?" Hermione looked into her eyes deeply and nodded slowly,

"Good." She turned to all of them in unison, "Now everyone! We have these special trinkets all helpers are to wear, to indicate their allegiance. They are simply for show!" She gave another small twitch and scratched her earlobe painfully once more. "Miss Granger, care to come over first?" Hermione looked up at her cautiously, surely there could be no more to this 'helping' than there seemed to be, this was just a small token to prove what and who she was, surely? She stood and moved closer to her, waiting patiently. The door opened again and a boy dressed similarly but in green and silver, "Master Higgs." Penelope bowed low and the boy ran a hand through his short blond hair and pierced her with his dark burning eyes. He held in his other a small, wooden and intricately carved box,

"Let's get this over with." He said flatly, holding it up for her to open, which she did so nodding hurriedly. It creaked slightly whilst it opened and she reached in, pulling out a pair of ruby earrings. They were silver studded, dangling down into a tear drop shaped cage, and visible through the thin gold swirls a tiny pearl shaped ruby rolled around inside. Penelope held them out to her,

"Gryffindor is your House,"

"I don't have my ears pierced." Said Hermione studying her carefully,

"No matter," Higgs said, and with a snap of his fingers, they shot out of Penelope's hands, clasping into her ears, stabbing her flesh. She squealed in pain and sat back in her seat hurriedly, clamping her hands over her ears.

"What are you doing?" She cried at them, he hands covered in her own blood from the clumsily freshly made holes.

"Sit Mudblood." Spat Higgs, and she stilled, trembling. "Now, the rest of you." He turned to Justin snapping a golden, black studded bracelet upon his wrist and doing the same to Kevin's ankle which now glittered blue and silver. They moved about the rest of the compartment, giving the 'gifts' to the other Muggleborns, Hermione still teary eyed as her ears dried up and the blood flow stemmed. When they were finished the two of them stood by the door. Penelope spoke again, "Now, when we get to Hogwarts, you will not be taken across the lake with the other students, instead will proceed to the end of the train to be assigned a student. You will also be required to wear a uniform of your students choosing, wearing it whenever you are to be seen in public with them, and wearing your normal house robes for your other duties, as well as your school uniform whilst performing specific tasks to represent your student. Now, we're almost there, so prepare yourselves."

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It was very cold as the group of Muggleborns stood by the end of the train, huddling together for comfort, shivering in the evening air. There was very little chatter amongst them having being previously warned by the caretaker Mr Filch that he would have them hung by their thumbs in the dungeons if he or his cat, Mrs Norris, found any of them making a sound, and as Hermione stood knotted between Justin and Kevin, they waited patiently, a little unsure of what was about to happened to them when they were called forwards. From the edge cold and eerie station could be seen a great Black Lake, which fog billowed over, around which a road extended, presumably leading to the school itself. There were but a few buildings around the station, the largest having been entered by the Conductor of the train, presumably his dwelling. Not far down from these buildings and leading from a clearing of a great forest and to the path were immense steel entrance gates leading into the Hogwarts grounds. Near these, at the opposite end of the platform to the Muggleborns, Hermione could see various students climbing into carriages, seemingly with nothing to pull them along and setting off down the path, whilst a large group of smaller students gathered around a giant of a man, standing freely above them all, almost twice the size of an average man and three times the size. Dressed in a large moleskin overcoat with seemingly hundreds of pockets, she could just make out a long mane of shaggy black hair and a beard that covered most of his face. With hands as big as dustbin lids and feet in their boots like baby dolphins, he was clearly visible to all. Hermione received a sharp nudge to her side from Kevin and whipped around to see a black robed figure appear out of the distant fog, long greasy black hair hanging about his face, drawing attention to his slightly hooked nose. As he got closer to them a monotonous voice floated to their ears, "The Muggleborns I take it, Mr Filch?"

"Oh yes indeed Professor Snape! Awaiting their sorting." He chuckled manically baring his rotten teeth at them,

"That will be all Mr Filch...please hand me the list." He shuffled forwards, pushing parchment into the professor's hands, before leaving quickly with oil lamp in hand and cat at heels. Professor Snape began calling out various names and assigning them fully to either Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor or Slytherin, to which they formed various groups. As Kevin was called he was sent to the Ravenclaw group, both his new friends disappointed to be leaving him. Yet as Justin was sent to Hufflepuff and Hermione to Gryffindor, they waved a small sad farewell to one another. Hermione's heart sank, realising that the friend she had made were now gone and she was alone and in pain once more. She stood as Professor Snape whipped out his wand and gave a sharp flick, sending two sets of robes in her direction which were piled into her arms, along with both her own luggage and the students she would be forthwith 'helping'. She took her place in line, waiting to be sent away, sent to where her duties would begin. She tried to find the tag attached to the new luggage to decipher whose it was, but seeing none and noting how stupid this person obviously was, she sighed and stood still. She could just hear Professor Snape now calling various smaller groups that were being led away by assorted hooded figures, and she paid barely any attention until she heard her own name, "Room three, bed one: Hermione Granger," She stood forward slowly, slightly unsure of what to do, "Bed two: Carla Whittacker," A short bespectacled mousy haired girl gingerly shuffled into line with Hemione, staring at her, "bed three: Xena Freya," a girl a little taller than Hermione stepped forward, long braided hair flicked over her shoulder, "Bed four: Serena Lafari," another short girl, black hair bunched up into tight buns on either side of her head, "And bed five: Maria Johnson," finally a very tall and very slender blond girl half-confidently stepped forwards and nodded to the rest of them before turning and leading them all to the front, where they cuddled together awaiting further instruction. Snape looked at them and sneered distastefully, "Follow and go to your dorms, begin your...assistance...immediately." Ordered Snape, extending a long arm in the direction of yet another hooded figure who had since returned from escorting a previous group of students. Shaking slightly, they began to walk after their unknown guide, wondering what lay in wake.

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The five of them stepped precariously into the room, staring at the cylindrical opening before them. There were five four-poster beds, surrounded by red drapes, set out around the room, accompanied by a set of dark drawers and one large black heater in the centre of the room. Three large windows allowed light into the room in the day, whilst in its absence, small floating candles above their heads provided illumination for the room. Hermione began to drag her luggage and other trunk to the foot of the first bed. Sitting on top of it she watched the others position themselves uncomfortably, and then they fell into silence. "So, what do you think?" She broke it, staring around at the others. The girl, Carla gave a small sniff, a single tear falling to the floor below,

"I don't want to be here!" She choked out, sobbing slightly.

"Hey, hey!" Hermione jumped from the bed and went over to her, pulling her arms around small figure, regardless of the little time they had known each other for, "Don't say that. You deserve to be here just as much as anyone." Maria smiled and flicked her hair behind her,

"Don't give up. We'll get each other through this. Seven years is nothing, we can all come out of this fighting just by staying strong for each other." Carla gave another sniff and Hermione released her, but still giving a reassuring rub to her arm. She took her glasses from her face and gave them a good wipe, allowing Hermione to dry her tears before putting them back on and giving a weak smile.

"And hopefully we'll have been given nice students to help, maybe even be friends with." Hermione added, all five of them huddling together for possibly the last time.

There was a loud band as the door opened and crashed into the wall, and then in traipsed five boys of their own year, staring at them intently, clearly having just been discussing what to do with the girls they had now been presented with. Closing the door steadily, they stood glaring at the huddle of females, each holding one another's hand protectively. In the dark, the new entrants seemed dangerous and unpredictable, half concealed by the obscurity of the shadows. The first boy made his way over to Maria; he was dark skinned with hair to match, staring at her intently. "Master Dean Thomas, half-blood." He said, staring at her, but she said nothing, "Maria! Did you not hear me?" She trembled a little at the authority in his voice, seeming to suddenly realise just what she had gotten herself into, and despite being taller than him she bowed low, whispering,

"Yes Master Thomas." He pointed to his bed where she sat, waiting for further instructions. Another boy approached Carla, with jet black hair, glasses and green eyes, a small lightning bolt scar atop his forehead. Hermione already knew his name, without introduction. Harry Potter, the boy who lived. Though lived through what she had no idea. A small chubby boy next approached Serena, Neville Longbottom he said his name was and he immediately blushed brilliantly red as she readily bowed for him, her head held extremely low. Hermione and Xena both looked at each other, silently waiting to be called upon. They looked to where the two boys were standing, one hidden further in shadows and the other a sandy haired boy, who stepped in Hermione's direction. A harsh grunt from behind him however stopped him suddenly and looking over his shoulder he nodded, and then moved to Xena. In his thick Irish accent he declared himself Seamus Finnigan making her bow down to him just as Serena had done so willingly for Neville. Yet before Hermione could be spoken to and claimed, Dean barked rather loudly at Maria that they were going for her new uniform, and were consequently followed by the others, the girls of which gave apologetic looks at Hermione, not wanting to leave her alone with the remaining boy. As the door shut firmly behind them, Hermione stayed perfectly still, almost not daring to move for fear of who was hiding from her in the darkness. She could barely breathe, her chest tightening, tremors setting into her skin. All manner of images were appearing in her head, her imagination thrown into overdrive. All she could think was that this was going to be it, she was in for it. The others had been treated harshly, yes, but there had to be a reason why she had been left alone and until last, with an unknown and unseen student.

"So." Came his voice, sending a shiver through her. She had heard his voice before, this time extremely cold and calculating, but from where she could not think, "I've got you then. How unfortunate for me, to be stuck with someone so far up her own arse." Her head shot to the side outraged that he would dare to say such a thing to her,

"Excuse me! Who do you think you are?" But as the words escaped her lips, a sharp pain shot through her temples. She momentarily clutched her head in desperation but the shook it off, looking back to where he had been peering at her from. He stepped forward and she gasped, seeing that flaming hair, bursting into the moonlight, his blue eyes flashing darkly at her,

"I'm a pure-blood. I'm your Master. I'm Ron Weasley."

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><p><em>Japan's Arc Angel x<em>


	2. Chapter Two: Being A Servant

_Chapter two quickly because people were so lovely to review and add to favourite for me! :) I've had a lot of comments and messages about 'My Muggle Maid' and after having read it, I strongly suggest a read for those for those of you who haven't (despite it remaining incomplete). I'll try and stay as far from it as possible, but things may overlap due to the obvious Harry Potter universe, but for now please enjoy and please review!_

_Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes :P_

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><p><span>Chapter Two: Being A Servant<span>

Hermione sat by her master's bed; eyes shut tight and facing the open window, allowing the light to drizzle over her face, basking in the morning rays. She often thought back to that day, the day she had met him and her nightmare had begun. She remembered those first words, his proclamation of claiming her as his own, as his property, his slave. She looked over to his matured form, half hidden behind the drapes of his bed, sleeping soundly without a care in the world, as if the past five years had been the easiest of his life, making hers the hardest. He no longer had little chubby cheeks, and a small childish body, instead now his long and lanky frame had filled and, despite his outside appearance, had always secretly lacked confidence in himself. She knew her master had worked tirelessly for the body he now possessed, even though she had not herself seen it properly. He still possessed that silly mop of ginger mess upon his head and a ridiculous amount of freckles that would always reminded her of the small boy she had once known. She looked over to the bed behind her, half expecting to see Carla busily folding Master Harry's clothes that had been hastily discarded the night before, but remembering suddenly that she of course would not be, her Master not as lazy as Hermione's.

Closing her eyes once more, she knelt beside his bed, her mind flashed backwards again, thinking how she had felt the first time she had been made to sit like this. She had been sat upon his bed, dumbfounded by his declaration, as he moved a step closer to her. She had flinched a little, remembering how he had treated her upon the platform, remembering the cruelty he had the potential to show. This was not someone that she had wished to be 'helping', not someone she had wished to ever see again. "Your wand." He had said flatly, extending his hand to her,

"What?" She looked at him as if he were insane,

"What Master!" He had shouted back at her,

"There's no need to call me Master, Weasley, Hermione's just fine." She smirked before seeing his face redden, enjoying herself a little. He took another step towards her, pushing her backwards onto his bed further. Kneeling beside her and bringing his body up to her head he placed his hands either side of it and glared down at her suddenly terrified eyes,

"You will call me Master, slave; now give me your wand. You are not allowed to steal any more magic, it's to be snapped. By order of the ministry." She squealed in horror and recoiled, trying to push her way from him, desperate to keep hold of her wand. From the moment she had felt its touch she had felt complete, and for this to be taken so harshly from her, the threat felt too large, too much for her to have to compete with.

"No!" She had shrieked, "You can't take it from me!" She pushed him off of her with a sudden burst of power and made a dash for the door. Just as her fingers brushed the hooped handle she was thrown violently to the floor from behind, and pinned as he rifled through her pockets, before finally pulling the thin piece of wood from beneath her robes and stepping away from her. She had begun to sob hysterically, making a grab for him, begging him not to shatter her most treasure item, the symbol of her ability and potential as a witch. "Please, anything please, don't break it, please!" He looked down at her pitifully, almost fully of disgust and hate. Taking her by the wrist he dragged her to the side of his bed and pushed her down to her knees.

"You sit here. I expect you still there in the morning, and every morning from now on." She knelt, tears still slipping from her eyes and rolling down to group upon her chin. Drawing a great shuddering breath she watched him climb onto his bed and look back at her. She almost saw a flicker of sympathy within his deep eyes, a pang of guilt perhaps, yet it vanished almost as soon as it had appeared. He snapped his head around and he drew the drapes hanging around him, only his shadow visible to her teary eyes through the thin material. She heard an almighty crack from inside the curtains, watching as his fingers pulled wood apart, and she felt her heart and dreams shatter in an instant, silencing her tears from him forever.

Hermione opened her eyes and leant her head backwards looking towards the dark wood ceiling, remembering that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach all those years ago, when he had taken everything from her. In that single snap of wood, she had succumbed to grief, mourning the loss of something so precious, and her only chance to ever be accepted by the wizarding society that she had been brought into. She had to admit that that had been their worst night together, a night that had wounded their time together over the previous years. She knew she would never forgive him for what he had done, but she had learnt to live with it, keeping her emotions locked away within her heart. It had come to pass that yes her master could be cruel to her at times, but he never beat her, or subjected her to serious injury or heavy labour, and he had never turned his own wand upon her, despite destroying her own. This at least she could be grateful for. Yet the public humiliations and taunting did not stop, demanding her run about after him constantly, giving her the most ridiculous outfit to accompany him out in, even to the point of degrading her completely if she dared to do anything against him. Yet currently here she sat in a full-length red, long-sleeved dress, a small gold apron tied around her waist, and normally bushy hair pinned to the top of her head, waiting for him to wake up. A small grunt from above her indicated his final arousal from sleep, the last of the boys in the vacated dormitory to do so. He stirred reluctantly, turning over to face her. His ginger mop fell over his eyes as they snapped open, the blue crystals beneath his eyelids slowly surfacing and clearing fully, piercing her forcefully. Lifting up a hand he pushed the hair from his face, a ruby studded gold ring flashing in the morning light. She quickly held her head to look down at her knees, placing her hands by her sides, hands flat against the floor. She felt his feet touch the floor next to her as he stretched, yawning loudly, and then waited as he walked over to his drawers. "Come on Granger, get shifted." She looked up at him staring out of the window, his hands upon the sill, dressed only in his boxers and a deep burgundy dressing gown, facing away from her, waiting expectantly. She stood and made her way to his drawers, opening them and collecting his various items of clothing and then arranging them neatly upon his bed, ready for him to change into as he pleased. She then turned and bowed low to him and then stood facing away as he began to change. "Oi." She turned to find him dressed in his Gryffindor robes already, "Where's your uniform?"

"What?" Her face twisted in confusion, looking down at her dress, and then remembering her Hogwarts robes were required for their morning outing down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Your uniform Granger. Why are you not wearing the correct uniform? I'm hungry!" He moved towards her but she stepped back, gulping slightly.

"Yes Sir. I'll change for you immediately."

"Oh you think you will! This calls for your special uniform this morning." He smirked at her as her face paled.

"No! Master no!" But still he reached under his bed and threw a small bundle of clothes at her,

"Now!" She bit her lip as pain shot through her, stemming from the earrings dangling from her head, and then turned from him, shame burning devastatingly in her cheeks, yet, without arguing she still made her way over to a small screen beside his bed, slipping behind it and changing distastefully. As she stepped out his grin grew larger as he completely looked her over, smirking wildly, and she tried to cover herself further, yanking her clothing down over her. Dressed in a small French Maid's outfit that barely covered anything, with long white socks and little black dolly shoes, she knew that people would stare and whisper about her, and she knew the enjoyment her Master would get from this. "Please Master; this is so embarrassing every time!" She looked at him in hope that he would change his mind and allow her to return to her previous attire, though knowing within herself that he would not be overruled.

"It's not like people will be looking up your skirt, we wouldn't want to be with people like you anyway Granger." Her cheeks puffed out slightly and she huffed, earning a glare from Ron, as if she had answered him back fully in his face. He sneered in her direction and then left the room, waiting in the Common Room for her to follow, steadily becoming more impatient with every passing second. She obliged readily, not wanting to incur his wrath, sighing greatly and knowing that it would not be the last of the day she took a deep clearing breath before proceeding out of the door, down the stone spiral staircase and into the common room. Here Ron pushed her hurriedly and violently ahead of him out of the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, intent on being in the Great Hall instantly for breakfast.

~x~x~x~

Hermione stood, clutching the bottom of her uniform so tightly, her knuckles turning white, entire face burning with embarrassment. She couldn't believe that when Ron had chosen the uniform for her over five years ago, it had almost reached her knees and felt extremely baggy, fitting loosely around her hips and chest, the sleeves dragging down to her elbows. Yet now it was lifted to mid-thigh at best when she was stationary, barely covering her at all as she moved, and she dared not bend regardless of which situation demanded it. It had become much tighter and much more uncomfortable, almost to the point of being unbearable. Now she could hear people snickering, feel the flame of their fixed gazes upon her back from all over the Great Hall. The four long tables of each house were filled, a few servants stood about behind their Masters awaiting instruction, or occasionally pouring them juice. She brought her head up high, trying to avoid any stares, looking to the enchanted ceiling that reflected the bright morning sky. But still the giggles came, floating over to her ears. Yet Ron paid no heed to this, instead piling his plate high with toast, sausage and bacon, whilst pouring himself gallons of pumpkin juice, clearly annoyed at Hermione's lack of initiative to do so for him in the first place. He ate noisily, sloshing and forcing it down as quickly as he could, just as he had always done, using the excuse of being a 'growing boy'. She took a deep breath, restraining herself from hitting him hard around the head and mashing his face into his own food in anger. She could see the other Muggleborns standing with their masters, glaring in disgust at Ron, looking sympathetic towards Hermione at having been burdened with such a piggish eater. She knew what they were thinking, what they had always thought. Apart from the Slytherin slaves, she was one of the worst off slaves in the entire school regarding embarrassment and humiliation in communal spaces. Granted it was common knowledge that the Slytherin's beat their servants, whipped them within inches of their lives, kept them in dark rooms, but none of this was ever seen, none of it ever displayed publically. These slaves were never even brought up from the dungeons, seen mainly only ever in the kitchens amongst the House Elves and other servants. The other houses may have not had as cruel methods, but it was still rife between the three of them. Those of Hufflepuff were treated the best of any slaves, even allowed by their Masters to roam freely, only called upon when needed urgently. Ravenclaw were divided, half sided with Slytherin methods, whilst the others desperately worked hard at trying to find a way to override the spells cast over the magical objects tying the Muggleborns to their Masters. The Gryffindor's however, for the most part, barely spoke to their servants, except when demanding things, choosing instead to ignore their predicament, almost ashamed to find themselves in such powerful positions. Very few developed any kind of relationship with their slaves, Ron being the most brutal. He crushed Hermione into the ground at any chance of belittling her, earning him praise from those alike him, and a sense of great disliking between the Muggleborns that had remained at Hogwarts through Hermione's years. Now here she was, watching him slosh food into his face like there was no tomorrow. She could feel five years worth of anger from watching him eat boiling inside of her, and coupled with the giggles and pitiful looks, she rounded on him, unable to contain herself any longer, "Will you stop eating!" Half of the surrounding students fell silent at her outburst, watching as Hermione clamped a hand to her mouth in shock of what she had done. She watched him freeze and began to back away slightly as he put down his cup and fork, suddenly standing and rounding on her in an instant. She could see the anger in his eyes, the burning disgrace he now held, and the determination to settle it. Silently he took hold of her wrist and pulled her towards him, causing her to collide with his puffed out chest. Fear surged into her own eyes, clearly evident, as his blazed with anger. Without warning he took her other wrist in the same hand and slung her over his shoulder in one swift move, walking from the table and out of the large wooden doors, leaving the remainder of the hall stunned into silence, only a concerned and matured Kevin running to the door and watching her be carried helplessly up the enchanted staircase.

~x~x~x~

Ron threw her down onto his bed, glaring at her spitefully. "How dare you speak to me in that way! You should be grateful I don't curse you Granger!" He turned from her, fists curled into a ball, "You just dares to talk to me like that again," Ron walked back towards her slowly, staring at her small face as she desperately tried to avoid his gaze, looking anywhere but at him, knowing that she had crossed the line, "I'm going to class now, you get this room scrubbed clean or you'll live to regret it." He seethed at her turning away and reaching the door, but seeming to change his mind, rounding upon her once more. Walking from the door and back to her, he took her chin and looked into her sudden fear-filled eyes, "Do you understand me Granger?" She nodded as quickly as possible, and he threw her away from him with a quick jerk, leaving rather ungracefully and slamming the door behind him. As soon as the door shut she gave a strangled sob and clutched at her face, crying slightly and breathing ridiculously heavily. She stood and ran to the heater in the middle of the room, opening the top and hurriedly climbing inside. Instantly, she was transported down into the kitchen quarters, falling out of a small fireplace, landing in a heap upon the stone floor. She tried to stand, still sobbing, tumbling forward,

"Justin! Justin!" She cried out, but she was suddenly scooped up by Kevin, who had run forward straightening his apron and shirt, followed by several House Elves. Kevin had developed so much over the years, becoming thin, toned and tall, a strength that Hermione could always rely on and had always supported her. His loving chocolate eyes watched over her at all times, giving her a shoulder to cry on so that she did not have to show the world the emotion she held inside of her.

"Hermione! What did he do to you? Tell me, please!" He spoke in a deep voice and carefully pulled her upwards, holding her arms around his neck and helping her to walk over to a small table and set of chairs. As she crumpled into one, he kept by her side, listening carefully to her few spoken words, echoing through her lament.

They had fallen into silence, lingeringly holding hands across the table, Kevin staring at her intently through the flicks of his soft auburn hair, both surrounded by three House Elves, Dobby, Winky and Hokey who were busily fussing over Hermione, bringing various biscuits and cakes whilst pouring tea from a large teapot twice the size of one of them. It was a while before Kevin finally spoke, "Maybe you should write another letter to your friend Viktor Krum, you know from Bulgaria. You haven't at all so far this year. It may be good for you to talk to someone outside of your situation, get advice from a different perspective." She looked up at him from her feet and smiled, clearly thinking about what he had just said. He always knew what was right for her, knew that speaking to Viktor made her happy and was made her life easier as she could express herself freely,

"I guess that could be a good idea. It'd be really nice to hear from him too I suppose. He invited me to stay with his family over the summer you know. I almost went too." She looked slightly saddened at the thought of what she could have been doing the previous few months, what she had missed out on, "But with having to stay with Master Ron whenever he's at Hogwarts, I couldn't see mum and dad until the end of year holiday." Kevin squeezed her hand tightly and smiled which she reciprocated gladly. "I will write to him, soon. I promise."

"And I promise you that it won't always be this way. We'll finish in two years, and then we can expose this whole thing for what it really is. We're going to save everyone Hermione; we Muggleborns will not have suffered in vain."

"No one should have to suffer, never. Not us, not the House Elves, no one. It's not fair. Magic is magic; we all deserve to be a part of it." She let go of his hand and put her own together and onto her lap, sighing heavily, "I think I miss my wand the most...But I suppose that you can't really miss the magic you never experienced." She said sadly, remembering how it had felt in her hands on the Hogwarts Express that day, and when it had been prised from her person. "Oh Kevin," She sighed, and then trying to sound more positive, "I have to go and clean his room. He is a dirty tramp after all." They both chuckled a little, agreeing that Ron indeed was far messier than necessary.

"Meet me after okay?" Kevin smiled at her, and she stood and nodded, walking back over to the fireplace she had stepped out of before. Turning to him she gave a feeble wave,

"Bye, I guess." Allowing red flames to consume her.

~x~x~x~

Ron and Harry steadily trudged through the Entrance Hall, broomstick in one glove covered hand, dirty, sodden red Quidditch robes in the other, making their way up the staircase, patiently waiting for it to change so they could reach the second floor. Wet hair splattered against their heads, and dirt flecked all over their arms and faces, a clear indication of the harsh weather that had raged through the rest of the day and well into the evening. As the staircase began to move, Carla came running up behind them, her spectacles bouncing up and down upon her face, hair pulling free of its tight bun, bowing to Harry as she went. "Carla, come on, you're going to trip and break your neck! Stand up properly while you're moving about." Harry said exasperatedly, causing her to blush and straighten herself out, patting down her apron, "Especially in that dress. All you need is a caught foot and bleugh! Mashed face." He looked at her disapprovingly,

"Yes Master Harry!" She chirped happily, and Ron looked on at them both disgusted,

"How can you be so, so, so...nice...to your slave?" He asked eying the girl carefully. Harry frowned,

"They're not slaves; maybe if you got to know Hermione a bit more, you'd see how great she could be." Carla nodded unintentionally from behind Harry a great smile upon her face, but stopped quickly when she realised what she was doing becoming still and stony.

"Harry, she's a Muggleborn, dad works at the Ministry, you really think I can be seen associating with people like her unless I have to? It puts my entire family at risk! No. I'm staying away from Granger...actually, I'm starving, and she can get her arse up there with some food." They stepped out onto the fourth floor, turning the staircase up to the fifth and Ron took off his glove, placing a finger on the ruby, "Food. Now!" As the three of them continued to the seventh floor, they came to the portrait of the Fat Lady, who giggled wildly, casually petting a hippo and eating a bowl full of grapes hastily. She turned to them and squealed in a luxuriously choral voice,

"Password?"

"Mimbulus mimbletonia." Harry said flatly. She nodded politely and then swung forwards to reveal a circular hole, opening up Gryffindor Tower and leading to the Gryffindor Common Room. As they were about to step through there came a loud shuffling from behind them. Looking back down the staircase to the sixth floor they saw Kevin and Hermione stepping onto the landing, clearly holding food meant for Ron. They were chatting and giggling quietly together, Kevin dragging Hermione around in a spin and allowing her to lean upon him, chuckling to herself as he whispered something into her ear. Kevin momentarily took her plate and placed it upon the floor and pulled her into a gratefully received embrace which she reciprocated, cuddling in tight, appreciative of her faithfully cheering friend. Harry looked to Ron as his face began to burn, his ears reddening and cheeks glowing, anger evident within him. Ron, seeing Kevin give Hermione a light kiss upon her forehead, snapped and refused to contain himself further, shouting down to them,

"OI!" They broke apart and stared up at him, "HERMIONE!" She gave an embarrassed look, carefully picking up the plate of food and beginning to walk up the stairs, momentarily stopping as Kevin put a hand on her arm and whispered something to her, "NOW!" She gave a last fleeting look to him and then ran up the stairs towards Ron who was glaring at Kevin and tapping his foot impatiently.

~x~x~x~

Hermione was always so grateful to Kevin, both he and Justin had always cared the most for her as she did for them, whenever she had needed it. Even now as she had felt the call of her Master flood her brain, beamed through the earrings still suspended from her lobes, he was helping her to carry the large plate up to the seventh floor, and then depart for the fifth floor himself. As they reached the sixth to go separate ways she turned to him, "Thank you so much Kevin, for everything, I really needed this." She smiled widely at him and giggled a little, pushing him slightly. He pulled her around him, glad that she had calmed and was at least enjoying herself. He took the plate she now held to herself and set it down and she knew what was coming, as usual after she had cried with him. He took her arms and placed them around his waist whilst taking her by the head and cuddling her gently. She felt calm while he held her, happy in herself and with Kevin, knowing she was not completely alone in her struggle to remain within Hogwarts itself. Kevin lightly kissed her forehead and she giggled a little again, sharing a moment of happiness and content with him, which was suddenly broken by a loud shout, coming from the top of the stairs next to them,

"OI! HERMIONE!" Letting go they stared upwards, finding Ron bearing down at them furiously, Harry and Carla standing halfway through the portrait hole, confused by his sudden outburst. Her face reddened and she sighed awkwardly, knowing she was already in trouble before she even got up to her Master,

"Damn..." She whispered bending her head forward, though still grinning slightly. She took the plate of food that Kevin handed her and took her first step up the staircase. Yet she stopped as she felt Kevin take her arm gently and she turned to face him fully,

"Don't worry about it; we'll talk again later okay? Whenever you can get away." He was interrupted yet again by an angry Ron, who was screaming at her lividly once more,

"NOW!" She gave Kevin a hurried smile and then ran quickly to the top of the stairs. She was met by a furious Ron, who glared past her at Kevin, who had quickly disappeared, as had their fellow Gryffindors. She was left alone with him quivering slightly by the entrance to Gryffindor Tower as he extended an arm and finger towards the hole, demanding that she enter. She hurried forwards, her head bent low, stepping inside and walking out into an empty common room. She heard a loud clatter from behind and was suddenly pulled backwards, almost spilling the various choices of biscuits, crackers and cheeses, before hitting something hard behind her. Two arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her in tight, overpowering her. She felt her heart begin to beat faster and faster, she was barely able to breathe properly, like she was being unintentionally suffocated. She could hear Ron's hard breathing by her ear, feeling it warm and sticky against her neck. He seemed crazed, uncontrolled and emotional. He let out a huge sigh and a small moan, resting himself against her heavily. There came a small bang from the stairs up to the dormitories before them and his head shot up, very aware that anyone could come and interrupt them in the slightest moment. Staying but for only a few more moments, his breathing calmed, a hand reaching forward to her own, he whispered slowly and calmly, "Clean my Quidditch kit." Her heart sank momentarily, then began beating rapidly once more as she felt his lips connect with her high cheek bones for mere seconds before he pulled the tray from her hands, and let his clothes fall to the floor, walking from her and busily munching upon the delights she had brought him as he made his way up towards his dormitory, not once looking back. Hermione realised that she had been steadily holding her breath, and as she let it go she sighed heavily, holding her chest tight, only moving as she heard a sharp, "NOW GRANGER!" coming from the top of the stairs. Inhaling deeply, she knelt and began to gather the various garments from the floor, trying to concentrate upon the amount of scrubbing she would have to now do.

"You leave my brother alone, do you hear me?" Came a voice she had not expected, and as Hermione looked up, she was not prepared to come face-to-face with her Master's sister Ginevra, who took her cheeks in between her hands and lowered her head to Hermione's level. "You. Slave. You are endangering my family. I may not be able to change who your Master is, but I will tell you this now. You will not mess his life up. You will not ruin everything that my family has worked for, how hard we've strived to survive." Ginny let go and threw Hermione away, noting how there was no longer any fear in the Muggleborn's face, not as there once had been all those years ago. Instead there seemed a defiant yet explicable understanding within her eyes. Ginny had never truly connected with Hermione since that day at Kingscross Station and had only done so now, feeling it her duty to intervene. She had grown since then, she was no longer a little girl and her family loyalties had only strengthened. They were her only priority and she was highly protective of every single one of them, despite being the youngest. "You watch it Granger. You do as you're told and stop messing with him." Ginny stood and turned her back on Hermione, disappearing herself, back to her dormitory. Hermione sat confused, unable to think in herself exactly what her Master's sibling had meant.

'Messing?' She questioned herself, 'Surely he's the one playing with me? Trying to take advantage with no feelings what so ever being involved. Treating me as some kind of possession.' She put her head into her hands and dragged them down her face, rubbing her eyes vigorously, drawing another great breath, before continuing to gather his clothes. Once piled high in her arms she stood, and turned to the dying embers of the Common Room and walked casually into them, vanishing from sight.

* * *

><p><em>Japan's Arc Angel x<em>


	3. Chapter Three: Writing To Victor Krum

_Well I just couldn't help myself! I was so enjoying writing this, and people have been so kind to review, that I thought I'd update as soon as! If I'm going too fast, of the story's becoming drab, slow or boring, please just let me know! But I hope this is good, and don't hesitate to say so if you're wanting longer or shorter chapters. Thanks once again to everyone!_

_Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes :P_

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Three: Writing To Viktor Krum<span>

Hermione sat huddled in her own world at a small wooden table in a shadowed corner of the Library, quill in hand, staring at a blank piece of parchment. It was silent in the Library and had been ever since she had entered the third floor an hour earlier. Though she was not allowed to take out any books, unless given written permission by her Master, Hermione loved being surrounded by such vast amounts of knowledge. She had once lived for books, spent hours poring over their contents, drinking in their precious information, not forgetting a single thing she saw. Yet now all she had were fleeting glimpses and hidden readings as she fleetingly stole her Master's books, risking everything for a few moments of magical knowledge. She came to the Library regardless, just to sit by herself and concentrate, to relax, even to talk to the Librarian, Madam Pince, who did not treat her as inferior, sharing her passion for books. They had first met after Hermione had run there to hide between the labyrinth-like bookshelves, consolidated within the pages of the room. As Madam Pince had approached her small shaken self all those years ago, Hermione had been afraid of her underfed vulture-like appearance with her parchment-like skin with sunken cheeks and shrivelled face with an unflattering hooked-nose. Her thin body complemented her irritable looking expression, but Hermione had soon found that inside she was a truly lovely person, merely overprotective of her leather-bound loves. This was when Hermione had come to know the Library as her place, and here she had come to write in peace. She simply could not think how possibly to begin. "Dear Viktor? Dearest Viktor? My Vikky? Oh Merlin no!" She mumbled to herself, shaking her head at her own stupidity. She coughed a little, and huffed to herself in slight anger. Settling for 'Dear Viktor' she began writing but stopped again, now stuck on what should come next after so many months of not having contact. Tilting her head backwards, she thought back to the moment Viktor had stepped into her life at the very beginning of the previous year, to enter the Triwizard Tournament. Servants and students had received special orders that whilst the Drumstrang Institute and the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic were sharing Hogwarts with them, they were to attend to their visitors needs over their Masters. She remembered as the great skeletal looking ship had crested the waters of the Great Black Lake, piloted by the boys of Durmstrang, where it would remain anchored for the rest of the year; she had hidden behind both Ron and Harry in awe and fear of the new arrivals. She had heard about them before, they refused to even accept Muggleborns, they could not come within miles of the castle situated in Scandinavia. Yet as they had departed the boat, walking through the on looking students of Hogwarts, someone had shouted from behind her,

"It's Viktor Krum! The Bulgarian seeker!" People began to shriek, namely girls, pointing towards a being tall, thin young man with a curved nose and thick set black eyebrows, and searching for parchment and quill to get his autograph, none so more than Ron himself,

"There's no one like Krum! He's like a bird the way he rides the wind! He's more than an athlete... he's an artist!" Her Master had glowed with excitement at his heroes appearing before him. Krum had spun his head in the direction of the first cry and stopped walking suddenly. He had begun to swiftly walk in their direction, heading straight for them, causing more girls to shriek louder around them. She remembered how she had blushed as he pushed past Ron and came to her, clad in her long dress and apron with hair stuck out on end, barely presentable to anyone. Yet he had knelt before her and taken her hand, pushing the back to his lips rather passionately, standing straight and leading her away, the school now standing still in silence. She had accompanied Viktor rather shyly and tentatively to the front of his brigade and then continued up the stone steps and into the castle. She had remained with him for most of the year, despite her master's obvious disapproval, snorting whenever he saw them together and delivering his snide and hurtful comments at any opportunity he got. She had often watched as Viktor had trained, taking casual dips into the Black Lake, diving from the stern of the ship into the freezing cold waters all through the winter months and into the summer. Only once had her Master stopped by whilst she had sat in the wind and the snow watching Viktor intently, simply to comment that he hoped the Giant Squid which inhabited the lake would get him as he dove. "Not that he ever really cared," She chuckled at the recollection, "He just couldn't be as lazy as usual." She smiled at the memories of attending the celebratory Yule Ball together, the weeks leading up to it, teaching Viktor to Ballroom and Latin, helping him study, having lunches and picnics together. Truly Hermione had come to love him in her heart, but not in the way that he had wanted. He was her brother and her friend, not her lover, and despite how he professed her beauty, and applauded her skills and intelligence, friends they had remained, despite a small stirring in her heart that had grown for him. She could not think what could have possibly stopped her from fully pursuing a relationship with him, yet she still felt too young, too uncomplicated to engage in such activities. She smiled gratefully at those memoirs; almost sad that they never had the chance to develop into something more, and she cherished them with all she had, just as she cherished him, finally knowing how to begin. As her hand moved across the page, she lost herself, as if she were back with him, spending hours talking over everything and nothing, able to be herself with him, able to not be a slave. She was barely aware as Harry, Ron and Ginevra came around a tall and dusty bookcase, intent on sitting at the table she was huddled up to with only a small candle to illuminate her workspace. They paused slightly, and the other two looked at Ron to take the lead over his servant. He crept up behind her stealthily and peered quietly over her shoulder,

"Dearest Viktor? Viktor who?" He spat at her suddenly, causing her to shriek loudly and shoot back in her chair, crushing his toes with a bone-crunching crack. He howled in pain and gave her a sharp whack about the head, causing her to turn and return the gesture with all the force she could muster. Unexpectedly seeing who she had just hit, she clamped a hand over her fallen jaw and squealed loudly, piercing the quiet of the library, to which a faint 'shhh' could be heard coming from Madam Pince somewhere in the never ending room.

"Master! Oh my! I'm so sorry!" She squeaked, earning another silence plea from the librarian, and causing her to drop her voice to a whisper, "Please forgive me!" She dropped to her knees in front of him, her head bowed low,

"Just answer the question Granger!" She looked up at him stupidly, "And get up!"

"What?" Before he could answer her, his sister interrupted them audaciously,

"Dearest Viktor," She began in a mocking voice that resembled little of Hermione's, "I do hope that you've been keeping well, it's been so-so here, just the normal hard work. Ron's being a git as usual, not much change from when we last spoke. I'm sorry I wasn't able to come and stay with you in Bulgaria last summer, my parents needed me at home. But we would love for you to visit us sometime soon." She paused looking at a horrified Hermione, who sat with her eyes now wide and glued to the floor, unable to move for a small twitch in the corner of her mouth. She could feel Ron's eyes bearing down on her, furious and fiery, heavily offended by what he was currently hearing. Ginevra smirked and continued, "I miss spending time with one of the only actually nice pure-bloods, but I get on well with Kevin and Justin at least. I know that...you know what? What were you going to write?" The ginger-haired woman stared down at her suspiciously, almost just daring her to answer her back truthfully,

"Oi, Ginny, I'll be doing the interrogating, she's my slave not yours." Cut in Ron, releasing some of his anger upon his own sibling. He kneeled down to Hermione's still form, breathing heavily and speaking dangerously low,

"Why are you writing to Viktor Krum?" She remained silent, not having the bravery to answer. He pulled at her face, fingers holding tightly onto her chin, forcing her to look at him, "Why...are you...writing...to Viktor Krum? Is that really so difficult to answer?" She shook her head furiously, despite the restraints placed upon her by his hand, "Answer it then!" He barked,

"He's my friend!" She squeaked back at him, only to have Ginny scoff at her,

"He's pure-blood! He's not allowed to be friends with you, especially not with that school that he goes to. No doubt you were just his whore last year anyway." Hermione shot a look at her, filling it with as much venom as she could, hating her Master's sister at that moment for even being courageous enough to suggest such a thing. "Don't you dare look at me like that!" She took a step towards her, ready to physically strike her. Yet Ron stepped forward regardless and dragged Hermione to her feet and out of the reach of his sister.

"Leave it. She's mine, I'll deal with her." He spoke to her now, more calmly than before, and then rounding upon his servant, "Go get me food. Now. Take it to my room and go and wait there." She looked ready to retort, defend herself, but decided against it, instead picking up her quill hastily from the table and making a grab for the parchment, but Ginny held it out of her reach. "NOW Granger!" She flinched as he shouted, and turned back to him and gave a small bow, before running from the three of them and out of sight behind another gargantuan row of books.

~x~x~x~

Kevin stood over a large bucket-like bowl of warm soapy water and several washboards, breathing heavily as he scrubbed his way through a mountain of dirtied clothing that his Mistress had so lovingly presented him with that finest of mornings. With a sudden, overly loud crack, Dobby appeared behind him chirping happily in his ear, "Where's Miss Hermione today Mister Kevin?"

"Probably wiping the arse of that lazy git she calls Master." He spat bitterly, still upset that Hermione had not come to him when he had asked her to the previous day, knowing that no doubt she had been given several punishment tasks for being late to her duties. Dobby sighed heavily at the young boy beside him, and put a small spindly hand upon his leg,

"Mister Kevin must not worry, Miss Hermione is a brave girl, and she will not always suffer." Kevin looked down and gave him a weak smile. He had hated to see her suffer so, often begged her to leave the castle, not understanding why she chose to stay.

'Just to prove a point? For someone? For me?' He thought acrimoniously, barely daring to think it could be for such a reason. She should not have stayed in such a place, not to endure a life as she had done, for nothing. Dobby suddenly jumped high and squealed causing him to spasm slightly, "Look! Look Mister Kevin! For Miss Hermione's birthday!" He ran to a small curtain at the back of the kitchen, opened it and pulled out a small bundle. The elf held up a long red and gold scarf and matching hat, looking proudly at them as though he had carefully and lovingly knitted them himself.

"They're amazing Dobby, want to see what I've got for her?" The elf nodded eagerly causing Kevin to grin manically, even more excited now about presenting it to her. Taking his hands from the water and drying them upon his apron, he lead the elf over to the fireplace, and stood inside, allowing both of them to be swept up in a great whirl of deep blue flames.

There was a great pop and they both stumbled from the fireplace inside of Ravenclaw Tower. Stepping out into the large, midnight coloured, circular room, Kevin hurried over to one of the bronze drapes that hung loosely around the walls and pulled it forwards. Hidden behind it there was a small door which he opened gently and allowed Dobby to wander through, out to a small patch of concealed grass. It was sheltered, the ceiling painted with luminescent stars like the Common Room, bringing an soothing and comforting state of relaxation to anyone who entered. Dobby looked around then up at him quizzically, but he just smiled and nodded towards a cluster of small trees, and up into the intertwined branches. From behind the vibrant foliage, two large yellow eyes peered back at the two of them causing Dobby to back away slightly, almost falling over his own long feet. "He's been here since the start of term; I bought him at Diagon Alley from the Magical Menagerie. The proprietor said he'd been there ages because nobody wanted him, but he seems really intelligent, kind of fitting for Hermione." With that, a very big, bandy-legged, ginger-coloured feline creature jumped onto the grass below, raising its squashed head towards them, looking as if he had run headlong into a brick wall. He flicked his bottlebrush tail towards them, and knelt low to the ground, spying a small cluster of spiders trickling past. "He's either a very big cat or quite a small tiger." Dobby chuckled at him, and he looked down to the elf, half confused,

"He's half-Kneazle Mister Kevin!"

"Kneazle?" Kevin stared at the animal, even more confused about what he had actually bought than before.

"A cat-like creature that has the ability to simply sense suspicious or unfriendly individuals."

"That would generally explain the aggressiveness and intelligence." The feline leapt forwards, scattering the cluster of spiders in all directions, selecting the smallest and chasing the terrified spider as it weaved and scuttled away from the playful outstretched paws, terrified for its life.

~x~x~x~

Hermione sat huddled in front of Ron's bed, resting her back against the wood, allowing the heater to warm her feet gently. How would she send Viktor her letter, or face the punishment of her Master without tears as she had done so for many years, not daring to cry in front of him. Having changed into her Hogwarts robes, expecting to be sent upon duties as punishment for even attempting to correspond with the seeker, she sat fiddling with her Gryffindor tie, thinking how best to possibly explain away her situation, as the door swung open and in came Carla, bustling about with a large pile of clothes and happily humming to herself. "Oh, Hermione! Didn't see you there, how's it...Hermione? What's wrong?" She placed the clothes on top of Harry's bed, removed her own Gryffindor tie and black jumper, before kneeling next to her friend.

"Same old. Master Ron caught me writing a letter to Viktor, his bitch of a sister took it from me." Carla huffed and pushed her glasses further up her nose,

"That family is horrendous! It's a wonder you're still here, it took a lot less for Xena, Maria and Serena to leave Hogwarts, especially after all Maria said about us sticking together. I do miss them..." She said sadly, thinking of the last time they had seen each other. Hermione and Carla had stood at the platform, staring at a single occupied window of the Hogwarts Express, sadly waving to the three of them that had decided their time was ended at Hogwarts, destined for home. The remaining girls had wept alongside that night, in mourning for their friends, seeing their strength having so easily failed after all but a year of their captivity.

They sat, side by side, in a rather uncomfortable silence until, "What will you do?"

"Just wait for what I get, I suppose I'll deserve it. Merlin knows what he'll do to me when he gets back though." She stared down at her lap in a sunken and disappointed stillness.

"Hmm, I hope he's not too harsh. I'm so lucky to have Harry you know. Harsh at first, but he's lovely really, once you get to know him." Carla said fondly.

"I wish I could say the same..." Carla sighed heavily and then stood from her, going over to the screen between the nearest two beds and began changing into her leisurely uniform,

"Harry's insisting I go with him to dinner today," She came out, busy tying her golden apron around herself to find Hermione straightening Ron's bed, gently smoothing out even the smallest of crinkles. "What are you gonna do in the meantime while I'm away?" Carla quizzed,

"Sit and be punished?"

"Don't you usually bend for that...?" She smirked dirtily as a few moments passed between them,

"Oh...Carla!" Hermione picked up a pillow and threw it at her friend. "That is disgusting! There is no way I'm letting that arse anywhere near-"

"Your arse?" She chuckled,

"Carla!" Hermione threw yet another pillow in her direction, hitting her full in the face and causing her to topple backwards, heavily flopping onto Harry's bed. They giggled wildly, Carla taking Harry's pillow and beating her back as Hermione flew at her shrieking playfully. They rolled about the floor together in a tangled mess, whacking and pummelling each other with the soft pillows, giggling constantly, ignoring the volume of their cries. So engrossed in chasing and wrestling one another, they failed to notice the door creep open and both Harry and Ron walk in on them surprised by what lay before them. The boys stood half-open mouthed staring at their oblivious servants, who had apparently forgotten their duties and their status'. Harry shook his head reproachfully as Carla gave Hermione an almighty whack about the head, first causing the pillow to explode, sending mountains of feathers cascading about the room and secondly throwing Hermione's head forwards, causing it to connect sharply with one of the posts of Dean's bed. "Aaaah! The nose Carla! The nose!" Hot red liquid began to seep from her nostrils, trailing to her chin and dripping down her neck onto her clothes, lightly splattering the floor in front of her.

"Oh my Merlin, Hermione! I'm so sorry! Here let me see it," She dropped the ripped pillow and ran to her friends side, pulling her head back forcefully and trying to stem the flow, "You really need the Hospital Wing Hermione, Madam Pomfrey could sort this easily."

"Are you kidthing?" Hermione said, sounding muffled and blocked as her nose was squeezed hard by her friend, "Thewth no way, Mather Won wouldn't wet me."

"Of course he'll let you Hermione! He's not completely heartless!" Carla tried to drag her to her feet and then sitting her upon Ron's bed whilst still holding her nose and pushing her backwards,

"Yea wight! Speak fow youwselth, you atweast hath Hawwy!" Carla looked sadly at her and the blood began to slow, barely anymore leaking from the orifice,

"You always get the shit end of it don't you Hermione? What a total dickhead...I just wish I could whisk you away, use magic to help you..." A sudden voice rang through causing the two young girls to jump,

"Well funnily enough, you bloody well can't!" Harry spoke clearly over them, arms tightly crossed and glaring at them. Carla panicked, "Master Harry!" She quickly stood and spun around hurriedly, proceeding to knock Hermione hard in the nose again, causing her to cry out in pain as it crunched agonizingly,

"Carla! The nose, for crying out loud!" As she began bleeding abundantly once more, dripping all over the bed sheets, tears threatening to fall from her eyes,

"Oh Hermione I'm so sorry!" She made a move towards her again in an attempt to help, but stopped as Harry spoke clearly once more, in a deep and commanding voice,

"Stop! Go get cleaned up," Nodding towards his servant and referring to her blood covered hands and arms, "And then you go, and you wait for me by the Great Hall. NOW!" She shuffled towards him quickly, head held low, bowing as she went, moving from the room, "And you'll be cleaning this later!" He shouted after her, nodding to Ron and then following her in a large huff, slamming the door behind him, causing the walls to reverberate around them.

Hermione waited, still spluttering, face still filled with blood and feathers, liquid still dribbling all over her face. Ron glared at her, making a sudden move to his bed and sitting beside her roughly. She squirmed in her discomfort, before finally making a rushed move to flop in front of him, bowing as low as she could, barely breathing, trying the ignore the stream of blood still cascading gradually from her nose and the feeling as it steadily began to clot. She heard him abruptly move away from her and open a draw before returning, sounding as though he had placed something very large and very heavy upon his lap. It was a few moments before he moved again, taking her gently by the chin and lifting up her face towards him. She could see a thick book resting open on his lap, a wand in his hand as he stared down at the pages, apparently thinking hard. She quickly closed her eyes and moved her head down again, fearing what would happen if she dared to witness the magic he was undoubtedly about to perform.

"Look at me. And don't breathe a word of this to anyone." He muttered, waiting for her head to lift, staring into his eyes. He took aim for her face, watching fear explode into her eyes and then shut toghtly, but he simply waved it over her shuddering face muttering lightly,

"Episkey," followed by "Tergeo." She felt her nose stop bleeding immediately and click back into its rightful place. A warm water-like wash fell over her face and then her entire body, steadily removing the blood that had stained all it had touched. She opened her eyes wide still staring up at him, but her Master simply continued looking down at the book and making various flicking movements with his wand. Her face dropped from his hands once more; look intently at the wooden floor,

"I'm sorry," She choked out hoarsely, the words sticking in her throat.

"For Merlin's sake, when will you learn Hermione?" She looked to him, staring feebly as he snapped the book shut with a loud clap and stored his wand into his back pocket. He had a sad look in his eyes, a pitiful look, filled with remorse for her. "You're going to have to clean this up you know that don't you?" She looked heavily uncomfortable to be around him, trying to shift away from him slightly, nodding hurriedly at the same time. He shuffled back into the centre of his bed, picking up the plate of food from his bedside table that Hermione had brought him earlier, biting into an apple, chewing it thoughtfully. He looked at her awkwardly, "Err...apple?" He held out the half eaten fruit to her, and she looked at it, deciding whether she dare give a truthful answer,

"Um...No...Thank you." She struggled out, eyeing his hand as he tapped the bed beside him. Looking behind her to first check he wasn't beckoning someone else, she gingerly got to her feet, sitting lightly beside him. She twitched uneasily, and he held the apple out to her again. She shook her head, trying to look further from him.

"Why were you writing to him?" He asked suddenly, causing her even more distress than before. She gave him a long silence, trying to think how to phrase what she was about to say properly.

"It's nice to have someone to talk to that's not too close to you physically."

"But he is emotionally?" Ron cut in quickly,

"Of course." They fell into silence once more. Not knowing what else to do, he held the apple out to her yet again, causing her to give a small laugh,

"I don't want your stupid apple you idiot!" She said laughing, put stopped suddenly, realising what she had said. He suddenly stood, leaving the apple and the rest of the food behind and making stealthily for the door. He stood rigidly with his hand on the door handle, clasping it tightly,

"You have the rest, I don't want it."

"Ron!" Hermione cried out suddenly, standing and taking a step towards her Master, "I mean...Master...I..." Her face showed just how confused she was, barely able to think what to say next, or what she had even wanted to say in the first place. He looked at her, bewildered himself, a little shocked that she had said his name for the first time, as far as he could ever recall. He stood back against the door as she made her way rather hurriedly towards him upon her tiptoes, slipping her arms around his neck and dragging him down to her level so that she could rest her chin upon his shoulder. Ron was so unsure of what he was supposed to do. Not only was she his slave, but someone that he had been warring with for almost five years, the only times they had ever been intimate was when he had been playing with her, trying to anger her, trying to embarrass her. Feeling her about to pull away, he placed his arms around her tiny waist and gave her a quick squeeze, a spontaneous urge to reciprocate her actions. But she still pulled away again, red faced and blushing, giving him a muttered, "Thank you." She waited for him to make the next move, barely even able to contemplate what he could possibly do to her, whether good or bad. Yet he simply turned and left her abruptly, alone with only the faint rays of sunshine still filtering in through the window, glossing over her icy skin and warming her cold face.

~x~x~x~

It was always cold in Viktor's room, particularly in the dead of winter, and today was no exception. As he walked into his spacious room circular room he threw off his long fur cloak and furry hat, and sat, still in his blood-red robes, at a wide wooden desk, fingering the unopened letter he had spent hours constructing. Durmstrang was smaller than Hogwarts had been, being only four stories high, the largest rooms upon the top most floor, one of which Viktor had inhabited for many years. It was cold and dark, lit only by soft candlelight, barely illuminating the deep shadows of the large bed and various chests of draws and wardrobes, as the intricately carved marble fire in the room was lit only for specific magical purposes. As he leant backwards in his chair, resting on the back two legs and looking out of a frosted window, his eyes drifted idly into the castles extensive grounds. He could see from where he sat, a large river that lead from a tall, not-so-distant mountain, through a vast forest and out towards an ocean, which lapped lazily against the rock faces and could occasionally, upon a quite night, be heard blissfully washing over itself. Upon the opposite side of the old fortress lay two great lakes, blacker than the night sky, even in the summer when light flooded the castle for the first time in months, allowing the students to safely fly their broomsticks for hours on ends around the grounds. He looked over to his bed thinking of the hours he'd spent there thinking about her, his Hermione, rereading her letters over and over. She had not written to him in months and he was desperate to hear from her, even more desperate to see her, be with her. He had relished in the time that they had spent together, angered by how her Master had treated her, enraged that she could not have accompanied him back to his home when he could have cared for her and made her comfortable. He had always had issues with her Master, that_ Ron_, the weird one who pestered for his autograph and then shunned and slated him as he removed Hermione from him. Then dribbling over the girls from Beauxbaton, even taking to half-stalking Viktor's fellow competitor of the Triwizard Tournament, the beautiful and elegant, blond haired Fleur Delacour and screaming at her in the corridor, begging her to go with him to the Yule Ball. Their relationship had later been sealed as Hermione had joined Viktor to the same ball, despite Muggleborns being forbidden and exempt from invite. He had loved when she came to see him compete, though was often jealous of the support she had shown her friends Master, Harry Potter. He had almost come to accept that their relationship was purely platonic, but still suspected there was more between them, something that there should not be, something he wanted to share with Hermione and only Hermione. All he could do was think of her and the suffering she had endured at the hands of those who deemed themselves of higher status, of purer blood, making him even more determined to take Hermione away from Hogwarts, forever.

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><p><em>Japan's Arc Angel x<em>


	4. Chapter Four: Crookshanks

_Sorry about the late update, but I wanted to make this a good one! So many people have given me such amazing reviews and it only makes for giving better chapters! Comments and questions are welcomed as I love reading your reviews! Please leave a review and you'll get more ASAP!_

_Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes :P_

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><p><span>Chapter Four: Crookshanks<span>

"Happy Birthday!" They cried in unison, both Kevin and Justin running hurriedly forwards to hug her,

"I can't believe you're sixteen already Hermione!" Kevin squeezed her waist tight, Justin's arms overlapping them both, encasing them in a strong hold.

"It's hardly the biggest milestone ever is it?" She giggled madly at them as they both dragged her over to a small set of table and chairs in the corner of the kitchen, which was surrounded by a currently tied back curtain that could be pulled around for privacy when required. Hermione sat over-excitedly as Justin lovingly placed a box in front of her, eagerly gesturing wildly at her to open it immediately. She smiled devilishly at both of them, and then began to undo the shiny yellow ribbon and peel back the smooth black paper, revealing a huge stash of her favourite sweets, purchased from Honeydukes Sweetshop in Hogsmeade, "Oh Justin thank you! Care for a sugar quill since you've been such a darling to me?" He took one, smiling gratefully, turning the sugary quill-shaped sweet in his fingers before proceeding to suck it with utmost delight. Kevin however refused politely, quickly excused himself, and then ran, disappearing in a blue flash, into the already roaring fireplace. Dobby ran forward brandishing his handmade clothing breathlessly at her which she also gratefully accepted, earning her a low bow from him, his floppy ears bobbling about as he did so, which she returned by gracefully tilting her head towards him. Winky and Hokey appeared suddenly, a large crack echoing about the kitchen. Both were considerably smaller than the humans around them, due to being female elves, though she seemed bigger than she supposedly was due to her puffed out blouse, protruding skirt and rather large blue hat that perched upon her small head. Both bore startling resemblance to Dobby, predominantly Winky, how had bat-like ears which rippled occasionally as she walked which further accentuated her huge brown eyes and tomato-sized nose, perfectly matching her high pitched voice. Hokey on the other hand was the tiniest and oldest House Elf that Hermione had certainly ever seen, with her papery-skin only covered by a small linen sheet. They both dropped to the floor, bearing a large chocolate covered cake, bigger than the both of them, resting upon their outstretched arms. They held it as high towards her as they could, smiling through the grimace from the obviously unbearable weight of the cake. "Oh you guys, it's wonderful!" Hermione cried tearfully, quickly taking the cake from them and placing it upon the small table, almost taking up all of the space that was available to them. She lightly traced her fingers over the icing covering the wand-shaped cake, smiling all the while, particularly at the squiggly mess of letters spelling out her name. "This is such an amazing birthday. I can barely remember the last time that I had a cake..." She smiled sadly, looking back to her very last birthday party, all those years ago; so far away from the life she had come to live. Her seven year old self had sat giggling furiously next to her mother upon their lush cream carpet, her father and now deceased grandparents smiling wildly from the sofa, sipping large mugs of tea and eating various party treats. A few other children, her dearest of friends and family, sat around her, sipping juice and playing with assorted party-bag fillers joyfully, back when she had had friends, before the bullying she had previously suffered had really set in. She smiled, thinking how she had run around, blowing party-whistles and singing loudly of songs that really, she has no idea as to what the lyrics were. She had even taken the cake her mother had lovingly prepared, so carefully spelling her name atop the icing, and plunged her face into it, munching giddily, clearly oblivious to the pains of having chipped a tooth upon the porcelain crockery. Those memories seemed so far from her, and as plates were brought over to them by other elves, casually wishing her a happy birthday as they came and went, allowing her to slice pieces for them each from the enormous cake, she thought back to her parents, to whom she had not written to in weeks and who undoubtedly worried for her safety, despite constant reassurances that she was perfectly safe. She nodded indefinitely, making a mental note to later write and put them at rest. The vicious roar of the fire sounded behind them, and Kevin bounded gracefully in, a large ginger object netted in his arms.

"What's that Kev?" Asked Justin, curiously peering at the scowling creature, "A cat?"

"A half-kneazle!" Piped in Dobby, proud of his knowledge and contribution to the conversation, nodding vigorously.

"I just thought, it's the big one, I may not get another chance to get you such an intelligent creature, he was the only one in the shop," Kevin grinned, clearly pleased with himself and holding his present in higher regard than the others, "Happy Birthday Hermione," He handed the feline to her, and she held onto him, staring intensely into his eyes. There seemed to pass an understanding between the two of them and as she lowered him to her knee, he sat still for a few moments, before facing her, putting his paws on her chest and giving her a good sniff and a small lick. Her heart could have melted there and then, feeling such love for the small animal, grateful of his acceptance. For a moment she wondered why Kevin could have possibly have thought to get her such a present, and no doubt an expensive one at that. Yet somewhere in her distant memory, she recalled a time they had sat together one winter morning, some years ago, warming their feet by the kitchen stoves. "Hermione?" He had asked her, "Have you ever thought about getting an owl? They'd be dead useful." She had put down her small copy of Charles Dickens Great Expectations and studied him thoughtfully for a moment,

"No, not at all. Why bother when there are so many to use up in the owlery? It's not like I need one to send letters outside of Hogwarts either, considering you all know how the post office works unlike certain members of the school, who really I wouldn't need to contact anyway." She chuckled slightly, and began to open her book once more, but paused as he spoke again,

"How about a toad?"

"I don't think so; it'd be far too slimy for me to ever pet and too cold to cuddle. And besides, Carla would probably end up sitting on it or something; I wouldn't put it past her with such a small creature. She's just not allowed near them, she's almost killed Master Neville's Toad Trevor far more times than I care to remember. How it lives when she has a mop out is beyond me." He had given her a strange look that Hermione could not fathom, but dropped the subject nonetheless. Now she clearly understood exactly why he had not pushed her any further, "Oh Kevin, he's gorgeous! Aren't you little kitty? What's his name?" She looked up to him expectantly,

"He hasn't got one yet, you choose." She positively beamed at him, and then began thinking hard, slightly biting her lip in the process. She nodded in approval.

"Crookshanks. I'm gonna name him Crookshanks."

~x~x~x~

Ron walked up the length of the stone steps towards the boy's dormitory, yawning loudly as he went and carrying several large Potions books and a bag full stuffed to the brim with a ridiculous amount of ingredients. Pushing the door open with his back, he waddled into his room gingerly, throwing his stuff on the floor hastily, barely through the door, and collapsing upon his bed, panting slightly. Harry looked over from his own bed, raising an eyebrow as he watched his friend's chest rise and fall with each deep gasping breath he took. "You know Harry, no matter how many times I walk all of those stairs; it just gets no easier..." Harry rolled his eyes in his direction and then returned to fiddling with his wand lazily. Ron temporarily closed his eyes lightly before they sprung open once again at the sound of a squealing Carla, who popped up from the side of Harry's bed holding a small package in the air, a look of triumph plastered on her face,

"YES! She is complete! Look Master Harry, look!" She shoved the golden wrapped present under his nose shaking it wildly. He tried to pull her head away and take it in his hands, but she simply mashed it excitedly further into his face,

"Carla?" He tried to take the package once more, failing miserably, only able to feel the friction burn from the shiny paper as it grazed the underside of his nose roughly, "Carla. Give it; just...just give it to me. Carla," She could barely contain herself, so proud of her perfect choice of present and perfect wrapping paper, she began half shoving it into his mouth, "FWALA!" She stopped suddenly, eyes wide, and fell back to her knees, looking down at them, feeling embarrassed and very awkward but grateful that at least Ron could no longer see her hidden behind her Master's large bed. She tentatively held it up in one hand, slightly shaking, still not looking at him, wincing at her own stupidity. He took it from her hands with a snort and turned it over in his own.

"What's it for?" Asked Ron giving it a quick glance, but before Harry could answer, Carla once more appeared to him from behind Harry's bed, her arms spread wide behind him as if he had suddenly grown another head and set of arms,

"It's Hermione's birthday! Yaaaay! Present times! Cake times!" She began wiggling her body about the room, waving her hands wildly and repeatedly chanting about wonderful presents and tasty cake. Harry coughed loudly, and she froze mid-dance, only her eyes moving as they shifted over to look at him. Her large smile faltered and her arms dropped loudly. She took a deep shuddering breath, trying to avoid their gaze and Ron studied her rather amused and her Master simply looked embarrassed. Exhaling quickly, Carla threw herself back to the floor, as low as possible, and began slowly creeping towards Harry, bottom high in the air, upon her hands and knees. Ron gave a stifled giggle, but allowing for a moment's pause between them,

"Birthday? I haven't gotten her anything." Ron said thoughtfully looking towards the canopy above his bed,

"When have you ever got her a present mate? When did you ever start caring?" Ron turned to see his grinning face, and felt his own begin to flush, his ears turning scarlet,

"I don't! I haven't! I was just stating the facts!" Ron turned on his side away from them, but remained fully aware of the secret look exchanged by Master and servant behind his back.

There came a sudden rattling from the heater in the middle of the room and all three turned to look as the top sprung open and smoke began to steadily pour out over the edges and onto the floor, before fading, mingling into the room's atmosphere. Suddenly, out jumped what they thought to be a small tiger, which bounded about the room playfully and then turned to wait for its own Master by the base of the heater. There came a small childish giggle, "Crookshanks you silly kitty, where've you gone boy?" An even frizzier haired Hermione's head popped up out of the top and proceeded to climb out, oblivious to those present in the room who were watching her intently. She fell to the floor clumsily, and Crookshanks tumbled onto her knees, pawing gently at her face. "Nobody's had you in a long time have they gorgeous?" She stroked his head lovingly as the fur upon his flat face stretched backwards causing him to purr in contempt. "No matter, I'll look after you now. Are you hungry?" She stood up, leaving him upon the ground and turned, reaching into the heater. She pulled the smallest of fish, hanging onto it by its tail and holding it above her sitting cat. Crookshanks looked to her smiling face and then up at the fish, before standing upon his hind legs, taking it in his mouth and using his paw to push her hand away, allowing him to quietly enjoy his treat. She gave a soft moan of content, gladly watching him messily munch the fish, taking no heed to the flakes of fish being mashed into the floorboards as he pawed it apart. She was amazed that he could extract so much flesh from such a tiny creature, and marvelled at his cute antics.

"You're going to have to clean that up you know." Came Ron's voice, and she shrieked loudly, backing harshly into the heater with an almighty clang.

"MASTER RON!" She shouted at him madly as though they had not seen each other in years, pointing a long finger in his direction, clearly not noticing his bemused face, and both Harry and Carla who were trying to smother their laughs.

"Yes Granger, that's me, or is your brain not working properly?" He said coldly, though with a hint of laughter hidden in there too, then hearing a loud hiss from next to her. Crookshanks' back was arched, eyes flaring and spitting in his direction, evidently displeased with the arrogant and rude boy before him. "Shut that dog up will you?" Hermione snapped slightly, gathering her new pet into her arms and then rounding on her own Master fiercely,

"He is not a dog!" Then she gulped heavily, breathing deeply and cuddling into her new companion who slinked around her shoulders, peering evilly at his fellow ginger hair accompaniment. She heard Ron's feet clatter to the floor, saw him walking over to her swiftly. She felt him kneel down to her level, able to stare directly into her face, pierce her eyes with his own,

"Granger. If I say it's a dog, it's a dog. If I say there's fish on the floor, there's fish on the floor. If I say you need to clean up that fish, GET...IT...CLEANED!" She flinched as he ranted at her, hating to hear him shout is such a discourteous way. Carla knelt up quickly, getting ready to stand and defend Hermione, opening her mouth to speak to her friends Master. Harry however held up a hand in her direction to make her sit again, silent and still under his stern gaze. Hermione looked up to him, a terrified and desperate look in her eyes, only wanting to enjoy her one day a year where she was special. Instead, she met his fiery temper full on, baring down upon her, knowing there was nothing that she could do. They sat for a few seconds, looking at each other, studying their reactions, guessing their next move, trying to ignore Crookshanks' various attempts for his face. She finally bowed her head and nodded quickly, not wanting to look at him, dragging a spitting Crookshanks back with her into the heater begrudgingly, and letting the lid clatter noisily shut behind her.

~x~x~x~

That spider was going to be his, regardless of how fast it intended on shuffling under the various bookcases lining the room. Harry and Ginny both sat in large comfy armchairs in front of the brightly roaring fire of Gryffindor Common Room, casually chatting about their up and coming Quidditch Match against Slytherin that was all but two weeks away and occasionally watching as the cat slinked off in various directions, apparently chasing something unseen to them, "You seriously need to get Ron training more, he's not bad, but not brilliant." Ginny turned to him expectantly, noting how, even when he had his eyes closed in contemplation, the seriousness upon his face made her flush deeply. She had always liked Harry, from the moment they had met upon Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Yet all she felt inside her was empty, knowing that they could never be together, knowing that she could never be a match for the perfect and wonderful Boy Who Lived, not Harry. If that didn't stop her, her brother most certainly would not appreciate her dating his best friend. She knew in her heart that Harry only saw her as a little sister who needed protecting, not bothering even when she had flaunted numerous suitors in front of him, reacting only in the way that Ron had done so. "Harry?" She croaked out and then cleared her throat slightly, turning her face so as he could not see her blush, even in the darkness of the coming evening.

"You're too harsh Gin, he tries all he can, I can't ask for much more from him. He just lacks confidence is all." He sighed deeply and looked over at her, seeing the light cast over her features gracefully, catching her hair and setting it ablaze. His mouth dried slightly feeling it open. He shook himself slightly, 'Best mate's sister. Practically your sister. Stupid perverted boy, go away!" He thought dismally, trying to quash the sickening feeling within his stomach. His eyes flickered suddenly over her head, seeing that Carla had just walked in, smiling practically devilishly at him. He blushed furiously and turned to look at his feet, hearing her chuckle slightly, unsure of whether to reprimand her for making him feel such a way. Yet there came a sudden and alarming shriek and Carla crashed to the floor and out of sight, drawing the attention of all those seated, scattered around the room.

"Crookshanks!" He heard her cry and he immediately stood up, half tutting to himself at when he expected to find,

"Carla?" He walked behind the chair, to expose her upon the floor, arms and legs splayed out and a large pile of clothes strewn across and about her, a particularly colourful pair of Harry's underwear upon her head, "Carla!" He walked over to her, quickly whipping them from her and stuffing them inside his robes hastily before beginning to remove the other various garments from her, pulling her hair back and revealing her face, "Are you okay?" She nodded, a little flustered, trying to brush the hair still further from her face, obviously highly mortified and aware of the sniggering students around them and a certain young red-headed girl glaring at the contact Harry kept with her. As they were busy gathering the last items of clothing, neither she nor Harry noticed the large spider that scuttled past them hastily, only just noticing, seconds too late, as a manic Crookshanks bounded up to them, before half standing upon Carla's face and bounding after it up the stairs towards the dormitories.

~x~x~x~

Hermione huffed as she reached the seventh floor of the castle, having spent the past hour out in the Transfiguration Courtyard with Justin, manually beating the dust out of the fluffy rug that was often left by Ron's bed that he insisted in dragging his feet across every time he had been outside. Her arms were swollen, and her back ached, barely able to carry the heavy load up to Gryffindor Tower, amongst the various other items she had cleaned and a plate full of snacks for him. As she had been working, all she had felt was pain. Pain from the laborious tasks she had to complete, pain from the earrings in her lobes sending her constant reminders from her Master about his various demands from her. She coughed a little, noting that what had started off as a pretty amazing birthday morning had quickly become a living nightmare, but what had she really expected. It wasn't like she had ever expected a gift from Ron, though perhaps a kind word wouldn't have gone a miss, or at least an evil 'Happy Birthday'. Something to not make her feel as miserable as usual. Now here she was, having beaten the rug spotless and cleaned the fish from the floor, as well as washing all of her Master's clothing, writing a hurried lie of a letter to her parents explaining how much of a 'wonderful' time she was having, and most recently preparing snacks for his already overindulgent meals, having to carry them from the kitchen after having also been banned from using the heaters and fireplaces by Ron for the rest of the week. Reaching the Fat Lady who was dozing peacefully, she regretfully awoke her and mumbled the password along with a quick apology about the disturbance, hurriedly clambering through the portrait hole as she swung forwards to admit Hermione entrance. As she passed through the small passage, she turned towards the fire, noting Ginny glaring at someone obscured in front of her, who Hermione could not see for obstruction of the sofa. She looked up suddenly and noticed who had just entered, glaring even more so at the new arrival. "You? This is your fault!" Hermione stared at her as if she were being ludicrous, completely unaware of what exactly the youngest Weasley could be talking about.

"Excuse me?" She questioned Ginny, who stood and pointed to the couch before her, her lips pursed tightly together, looking as though she may backhand her brothers' slave straight through the window. As Hermione hesitantly stepped forward, she saw both Carla and Harry upon it, a clear cut down her face as Harry tried various healing spells that he vaguely recalled from some past Charms class. Again Hermione gave her a bewildered look, visibly not understanding how this connected to her in any which way possible,

"Your filthy creature, you ignorant cow!" Ginny puffed herself out proudly and was amazed as Harry shot her a disgusted and disappointed look, but did not let this deter her from humiliating Hermione in front of the few Gryffindors that were about. "You've let him loose!" She continued, ignoring the abrupt regret and guilt she was beginning to feel within her stomach as it knotted tighter and tighter. "He's done this to Harry's slave, it looks hideous!" Hermione began to feel blameworthy, realising steadily that it had to have been Crookshanks, and looking over at her friend, noticing how the collar of her dress was stained with dry blood. She was about to apologise profusely when Harry cut in front of her, silencing any words that remained in her throat,

"That's enough Ginevra. It can't be helped. It's not so bad anyway." He said coldly and nodding to Hermione curtly. Once again she was cut through as she began to speak, this time by a shriek that echoed down from the boy's dormitories, followed by a bellow, a fear within it that had never heard of before,

"GRANGER!"

Hermione stilled, fear frozen into her face, anxious at the possibilities of what she could have done now. Ginny smirked widely whilst the other two looked at her in shock, almost asking her what exactly she could have possibly done this time. Yet her face simply remained still, hardly daring to even twitch, only a slight wobble evident in her left eye. "GRANGER!" It came louder this time, followed by an earth-shattering bang, as a door was thrown violently open to scream at her once more. "ARSE! HERE! NOW!" She dropped the rug immediately along with all of her other luggage and sprinted up the stairs as fast as she could, breathing rather heavily. As she collapsed against the wall at the top of the stairs, she looked up to see Ron, dressed only in his underwear, glaring at her furiously. She did not even have time to be embarrassed about seeing him in such little clothing for the first time as he took hold of her upper arm and brought her towards the doorway into their room. He extended a shaking arm, the rage pulsing through his veins, his breathing rushing as his chest puffed and deflated at a speedy pace, into the door that they now stood against. She cautiously crept in, bent low and looking around fearfully. Yet she saw nothing and stood up, bewildered and turned to look at him. Yet he was right behind her, and gave her a shove in the direction of his bed which had been casually thrown together. He gave a nod towards it and she nervously extended a hand, almost not daring to draw back the covers. She pulled her hand back to herself quickly, having talked herself out of it, yet when she was pushed forwards again, she had no option but to reveal what was concealed underneath. She grasped the edges and without warning, whipped them back quickly holding her breath in tight before giving a sigh of relief. Littered in the bed were a few small dead spiders and a curled up Crookshanks, who turned to face them both lazily, lolling onto his back sluggishly happy with where he was. Hermione gave a small chuckle, but was startled to hear a whimper from her master. Turning, she found him sat upon Seamus' bed, refusing to come closer, eyeing his bed suspiciously. She looked at him curiously, almost debating whether to dare to ask,

"Master? What's wrong?" He twitched slightly, looking fearfully at his bed.

"Nothing," He squeaked, before clearing his throat, "Nothing." He said, in a much deeper voice than normal, "It's disgusting, get rid of them and your pig with fur!" She frowned slightly, and then her brain clicked and she began to smile widely. She thought for a second and bit her lip hesitantly,

"Are you afraid of spiders?" He shot her a disgusted look and straightened himself out, standing again and trying to look threatening, even from where he was.

"No, I am not!" She smiled at him giddily, almost chuckling to herself, finding him so cute for being terrified of such small animals. "I'm not!" He shouted at her, face blazing red, burning with shame. She turned from him and began gathering the spiders into her hands, giving Crookshanks a quick stroke which he accepted gratefully and a tap up on the nose,

"You naughty kitty," She stroked under his furry chin and then turned to place the dead spiders inside of the heater. As she snapped it shut tightly, her smile remained whilst he sulked,

"How cute." She hummed, commenting upon his completely unknowingly, causing him to flush darker than before, not able to look at her, regardless of how oblivious to him she had become as Crookshanks had made his way to her suavely shaking his hind legs as he walked, stretching all the while.

"He needs a bath." She said, picking him up and giving him a quick sniff, "Smelly Crookshanks. Look at you, you've got little spidey legs all in your fur. Then we'll put your new collar on that Viktor has bought you." She giggled,

"Krum bought you something?" Ron asked suddenly, lifting his head from the floor and looking at her intently.

"Umm, yes, he wrote to Kevin asking what he could buy me. He told him all about what he had done and he decided to get me things for Crookshanks. You know, to help out, make him feel a little more at home with me. Viktor is so wonderfully kind to me, even at the worst of times." An awkward silence passed between them momentarily and all she could hear was Ron's loud and arduous breathing,

"You are back in contact with him then. I didn't even realise Granger. About either issue." She sneaked a glance at him, unsure of what to really say. He had never appreciated her birthday before, even if it had been made obvious to him that it was that time of year again. Even further still, he had never expressed it to her, instead choosing to ignore whenever it came around and be extra severe with her. Yet now here he was, apologising for not knowing, well, almost apologising, she couldn't quite be sure. Perhaps even apologising for chastising her about writing to Viktor, possibly allowing them to remain friends and in contact for as long as she so wanted.

"I never expected you to know...I'm only a servant anyway, not of any real importance." She felt her own heart drop as the words left her lips, feeling dejected and hurt by her own words, almost expecting him to disagree and come to her defence. Instead,

"That's true enough." Ron said flatly, allowing even more silence to follow, both unsure of what to do or say to one another. She preferred it when he was shouting at her; at least it wasn't awkward then. Crookshanks began to squirm in his uncomfortable position in her arms, almost sensing the oncoming of water, desperate to get away. However, this only brought Hermione back to her senses, looking over to her Master tentatively,

"Oh...Can I go and bathe him Master? Please?" She turned to look at him, hopefully, but doubt evidently etched upon her face, willing to bet with certainty that he would give her a definite no.

"Err, yeah." He replied, and her face fell in shock. She nodded confusedly, but made no attempt to question his words. "He needs it," Ron added quickly, "I'm not too keen on that monstrous thing as it is, never mind making the room smell like shite." She nodded and backed away very slowly, a bored looking feline draped about her arms, attempting to make for the tightly shut door. "And keep him out of my bed!" As Hermione's hand brushed the handle behind her she turned ready to walk out of the room, yet he spoke once more, her heart pounding in her chest, waiting for him to change his mind,

"Er, you know, Hermione...well, yeah, happy birthday."

* * *

><p><em>Japan's Arc Angel x<em>


	5. Chapter Five: Surprises

_There's the next chapter uploaded :)The reason I was able to write this in the first place was because, although every single review means the absolute world to me, and pushes me to write more and more daily, one in particular touched me in such a way that I simply had to begin writing this at 2 AM. So a big thank you to **downtonxlover**, this is for you. Also, as a side note, it's been brought to my attention that some people are finding it annoying or difficult to read dialogue because everything is not set out of separate lines. The reason for this is because I am writing in Standard English, and this is grammatically orthodox and pragmatically conventional to the English language. Please let me know if you would prefer me to separate every single piece of speech and I'll do so, rewriting and posting it under a different story name, so it's easier for people to read that aren't accustomed to the proper set out of dialogue :) Remember that all comments or complaints are welcome and taken into consideration for the coming chapters!_

_Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes :P_

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Five: Surprises<span>

Hermione stood frozen to the spot, fingers hovering over the handle to the boy's dormitory, ready to be opened and allow her to walk out of there and down to the Common Room. Could she have possibly heard right? Of course she had, there was no doubt about it, but how could those words have possibly fallen from his lips? They sounded so alien to her, so extraordinary to even dare as to form in his mouth, even stranger to be finally voiced into the room. She gulped, giving herself a mental shake, not wanting to embarrass her with a physical one. Never before had he even acknowledged her birthday, seeming oblivious to it despite the eccentric nature of Carla regarding the wrapping of her presents. Last year had been truly the most horrendous. Hermione had awoke to find herself sticky and covered in feathers, Ron laughing at his 'practical joke' and virtually wheezing as his lungs gasped for air, looking like a raging asthmatic. She had hit the roof, throwing things violently in his direction and threatening to strangle him to death for being such an 'ungrateful arse', purposely stuffing handfuls of feathers into as many orifices upon his face as she possibly could. This had unfortunately only invoked his wrath further, earning her the punishment of wearing her skimpy maids outfit to accompany him to Quidditch practice, and sit in the hooped goalposts he was defending, unaided, whilst he purposely failed to save as many goals as he should have. She shuddered at the memory of the pain and the bruises it had created, fresh markings surfacing with every passing minute. Now here she stood, fully aware of him sat, half-naked, across the room from her, looking at her back with a defiant piercing glare. She gulped yet again and then took at deep breath, slowly placing an impatient Crookshanks by the door, who looked at her lazily and rolled his eyes heavily, almost sighing in her direction and motioning to her to furry herself up. She stood up after giving him a hasty nod and a pat upon his head, and then slowly revolved on the spot to face her Master. She saw his eyes shift to the floor; only taking a fleeting glance at her every few seconds. She willed her feet to move from him, run for the door quickly before he realised what he had said, before he punished her severely, and accuse her of hoodwinking him. Yet her feet only moved forward and towards him, as if overtaken by a force stronger than her own willpower, an unknown and terrifying notion to her. She slowly made her way towards her Master, stopping by the heater and lightly placed a gentle hand upon it. Ron looked up at her, saying nothing, almost giving her permission to become closer to him, that of which she acknowledged with a small, shaken nod. She could feel her mouth dry, her lips stiff and unmoving, and unwittingly licked them, before again beginning to move closer to him. When she stood but a few inches from him, an arm's reach away, she stopped and then looked around a little, causing him to raise an inquisitive eyebrow at her. She looked back to him, speaking in a hushed whisper, "Master..." She breathed and bowed low to him, draping her dress over her hands and fanning it about her in a courtly manner, the corners of her mouth twitching. He nodded to her, regardless of the fact that she could not possibly see for her bowed head, but his face iced over where he sat as she rose again to face up to him. She had leant forwards into him, kissing his cheek, only lightly, enduring for all but a second. He felt her lips brush his skin lightly, lingering for only a moment before pulling away and seeing her straightening up, and clasp a hand to her mouth, eyes wide and staring. He could see her shaking slightly, in shock, her hand barely able to cup her own face. Her eyes suddenly grew even wider and she began to back away. Ron was speechless, barely able to think how to respond other than to shout at her, punish her. But before he could even speak she bolted for the door faster than he had ever seen her move, dragging a dishevelled Crookshanks behind her.

~x~x~x~

He sat quietly upon a long stone bench facing out towards the pooling waters of the Great Lake; steadily sewing whilst sat in the Entrance Courtyard as, yet again, Kevin's clumsy Mistress, the frivolous Luna Lovegood, had managed to destroy several articles of her clothing during a recent escapade into the night with a certain young Gryffindor named Neville. He chuckled slightly, thinking of their little secret 'affair' and how his normally dreamily Mistress had become ever more ephemeral before and after her outings. Kevin shook his head, still smiling, but then suddenly jumped ever so slightly, as the large doors to the Entrance Hall slammed open loudly, echoing through the entire spacious courtyard. "KEVIN!" Came a hideously loud shriek and he spun around, not moving from his seat, shock evidently etched into his face. There Hermione stood, eyes ablaze and glaring at him from the looming doorway, a rugged Justin panting, having obviously just been dragged by her all the way from him previous position by his shirt, of which her fingers were still entwined. She hurriedly ran down the few mineral steps towards him, Justin stumbling heavily and barely able to stand as she hauled him with her. "KEVIN!" She bellowed again, despite being but a stone's throw from him, earning glares and stares from the scattered Masters around them and slight chuckles from their accompanying servants. Regardless, Hermione took hold of his arm tightly, causing an even bigger scene as all he had around him fell from his arms and lap, clattering to the floor in a tangled mess, and she pulled him with her, away from the now eerily quiet courtyard and back into the castle. Bounding up the various staircases, they weaved through the labyrinth of corridors, sprinting past current lessons and dodging the wandering students who were leisurely passing their free time enjoying the many paths through the castle. Hermione pushed them hurriedly through a small corner door, into an empty and obviously disused classroom, slamming the door with great force and locking it as she entered behind them as well. With her back against the door she leant heavily, breathing rapidly, barely able to look at either of them as they searched her desperately for an answer, "I've just done something so stupid."

~x~x~x~

"Oh shit." Ron finally huffed, his head flopping forwards and into his hands. He had been sat in the same place, in the same position for more than half an hour, staring blankly and feeling a slight tingling still lingering upon his tinted cheek. 'What the hell did she do?' Kept replaying inside his head, over and over again, the image of her face being so close to his, flashing through his memory, a slight tinge of pink blushing over her tiny cheeks. He could still feel her breath by his ear, causing him to flush suddenly bright scarlet. He felt his stomach tighten uncontrollably, warmth travelling all over his body causing him to feel slightly sick, amazed at her stupidity, ashamed of what had occurred. He grunted loudly and slid rather ungracefully onto the floor, resting roughly against Seamus's bed, exhaling extremely loudly. The door suddenly creaked noisily, causing him to jump violently, half fearful that she had come back to discuss what had just occurred. Thankfully, in walked Harry and Neville, laughing at a past comment one of them had made just before opening the door and entering. Harry stopped suddenly causing Neville to walk into the back of him,

"Ron?" He asked, looking down at his friend, slightly worried. Ron looked up at them both, paling again. "What the hell happened?" They both walked over to him with urgency, kneeling down concernedly and placing a hand upon his shoulder. It looked as though he were trying to speak, barely able to form words, seemingly trying to tell them something either truly amazing or truly shocking. He swallowed hard then finally grunted out, barely audible, outwardly with every ounce of strength he possibly possessed,

"Hermione...Granger...she kissed me." The others drew back, giving each other a hasty stare, and then turning back to him, obviously trying to keep control.

"You what mate?" Asked Neville, needing further reassurance, seeming to heavily depend upon the possibility of having misheard,

"Are you shitting me?" Hissed Harry, "How could you let her do that? You know what they'll do to her if they find out about this! Worse yet...your family!" Ron shot him an angry look, almost disgusted by the assumption that he had not even considered his own family first.

"You don't think I know that? It was only on the cheek anyway." He looked down towards the floor beneath him, trying to reason that the kiss had only been small, and a token of gratitude at best,

"That's no excuse!" Harry stood up and backed away from him, running his hands through his hair exasperatedly, "You leave it and never speak of it again. Act as if it's never happened." He turned away from Ron and huffed, quickly running from the room, not looking back, and muttering to himself. As the slam of the door echoed through the room, resonating off of the walls, Neville turned his eyes from the shut wood and back to Ron,

"Fuckin' hell Ron. You'll get her killed." He breathed heavily, sitting beside him with a soft slapping as he fell against the wood,

"She took me by surprise, I only said happy birthday for Merlin's sake! I didn't expect her to try and half snog me!" Ron threw his hands up at his exclamation in rather a wild and unexpected fashion, and Neville looked at him, raising a steady eyebrow and wearing a cheeky grin,

"Snog you?"

"You know what I mean! It's not like I care for the silly cow, but I don't wanna get anyone killed! I'm not that heartless."

"Well in honesty I don't see why anyone would want to snog your bloody ugly mug," Neville smirked devilishly and earned a small smile from his ginger haired friend in return, obviously grateful for a slight change in subject, "Though I do think you should leave a note or something for her at least. Then leave it. Just be normal." There was a pause as they fell into a small silence, unsure of what more there really could be to their conversation, "Listen mate, I've got to go, I'm meeting Luna."

~x~x~x~

"My Hermione, I was sad to receive such news in your letter and only wished that I could have taken you with me, so that you would not have had to suffer so. You are a brave and courageous woman, and I believe you only need reminding of this from time to time. I have something special planned to which I hope you will not object. Stay strong, your Viktor." She drew a deep breath and looked over towards Kevin who was watching her intently, "What do you think?" Kevin folded his arms tightly, looking thoughtful,

"Special? What's he mean by that?" She shook her head, looking slightly confused,

"Not a clue."

"Bit difficult if he's all the way over there." It was an unusually warm day, as the last of the summer rays faded from the afternoon sky, readying for winters ever looming approach. Hermione lent upon the already icy windowsill of the Owlery fanning herself lightly with the envelope that had contained said letter and looking out of the room, which was situated at the very top of the castle's West Tower, out down to the courtyard below them. The large circular room had a habit of being temperamental with the heating, leading to the current sweltering temperature inside, despite the glassless windows and breeze running through the room at random intervals. The rare times in which she could escape with either Kevin or Justin would often see them end up in the Owlerly, somewhere away from the prying eyes of the Masters and Mistresses of the school. Such was this day, as Hermione had appeared in the fireplace staggering into the kitchens, arms full of various pieces of Quidditch equipment that needed desperately scrubbing, and clothes that needed to be readily cleaned or carefully sewn back into one piece. Kevin, however, had had other ideas for them, seeing her exasperated and seething face, clearly annoyed about the coming days work. Throwing all that she carried into a corner, he took her by the hands and dragged her with him, running out into the narrow corridor leading from the kitchens. Now here they stood, side by side, gazing at the Great Lake as if they were normal, average, everyday students, enjoying an afternoon free from lessons and free from worry. "I miss him sometimes you know." She said lazily, barely concentrating, earning an eagerly raised eyebrow from him, "Just the small things that he did that made me smile I guess." She chuckled, "Hermy-own-ninny...he's so cute..." Kevin cleared his throat loudly at her, feeling slightly awkward, and she blushed ridiculously,

"I wouldn't let Mr Weasley hear about that if I were you, he won't be too happy, especially after what you've done." She looked at him questioningly, unsure of why he would say something so bitter and unexpected, causing her to blush brilliantly, but he just smiled back at her flippantly before looking back out towards the darkness of the lake. She felt a sudden sharp pain run through her temples as the rubies in her earrings illuminated slightly, sending the shock directly through her entire body. She gasped sharply, sucking in the air about her brusquely, wincing in obvious pain. Kevin slid an arm around her shoulders and gave her a half apologetic hug, clearly feeling sorry for her,

"I should go...you know how he is, no doubt he's wanting more food to stuff that oversized stomach of his." She sighed unhappily, almost feeling the weight under her arms already, knowing the steps she would have to climb simply because the plate was too small to fit through the top of the heater,

"What a tosser," Kevin mumbled, "He's as bad as those skanky Slytherins. I'm surprised he's not wanded you yet." She hit him lightly, giving a small chuckle, even though she had always had the fear that her Master would turn magic upon her,

"Kevin! That's so cruel! Even for him..." She sighed yet again and folded Viktor's note, placing it in her pocket neatly and giving the outside a small, loving pat. "I had better go; I can't be dealing with him starting again. Though perhaps I should you know, just to avoid talking about it...No matter what I get later." She trudged towards the door heavy-heartedly, dragging her feet behind her as she went, and then disappeared from his view, leaving a stone cold Kevin clutching the window in anger, glaring in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.

~x~x~x~

There was an almost deafening crack from behind a closed door as Hermione passed hastily along a fourth floor corridor, before a slightly dizzy and dishevelled Dobby appeared in front of her holding up a scrap of parchment, his ears waggling at the effort it had taken for him to wrench the door open and reach her. "Dobby!" She squealed with excitement, leaning down to happily shake his tiny hand. He smiled widely back at her, allowing his teeth the gleam brightly at her. She took his hand for a few moments, noting how cold his fingers felt against her equally rough ones, before he withdrew and held out his other, a small scrunched up piece of paper seemingly protruding from it.

"Master Ron said this was for you. And you must read it. Now." She looked at him rather curiously, but took what he held regardless, albeit rather gingerly. Opening it rather hurriedly, she absorbed the words scrawled upon the parchment once, and again, and then again. Her brows furrowed deeply, and she decided that perhaps it would make more sense voiced aloud,

"Forget everything. Or you'll regret it. Get me food. Common Room now. That's an order." She felt her earrings pulsate and send an immediate shock through her as soon as the word 'order' left her lips, lingering upon her skin, fizzling steadily away. "Dickhead." She muttered resentfully, feeling the sharp pain wave over her again, strong this time, signifying his impatience and obvious recognition of her insubordination. "OW! Damn things!" She took them roughly in her hands, ragging them about sloppily, yet still unable to unhinge them from her lobes successfully, "Who's stupid idea were these ruddy things in the first place? No doubt a cruel moron!" She growled deeply into herself, and then looking down to an uncomfortable Dobby, she tried to smiled, only managing an awkward grimace. "Kitchens?" He nodded solemnly, looking as though he wished some other elf had been cornered before him, and walked away from her hurriedly, hopping as he went. She cursed her Master heavily under her breath and then put her head down low towards the floor, before she steadily began to follow him.

~x~x~x~

She stumbled, leaning heavily against the stone wall beside her for balance. Hermione had piled the oversized plate that she balanced upon one of her small hands as full as she possibly could have, hoping to not be sent back to the kitchens again for a refill. The jug she held in the other was very heavy, causing her upper arm to ache and groan under the weight of such a colossal flagon which was filled to the very brim with pumpkin juice, the meniscus threatening to break and cause a spillage. She hadn't felt such aching in months, in both her body which was struggling to carry anything up even one more step, and heart, which longed for freedom and a release from Hogwarts. Her brain was pounding heavily within her skull, barely able to think about anything, hazing over, trying to only concentrate on taking the mountain food to her gluttonous Master and then sleeping away her pain and confusion, at least until the morning when she could reply to Viktor, thinking clearer about the perplexing men that inhabited her young life. She gave a long look up to the flights she had yet to climb and gave out a lasting and somewhat loud moan, causing a straggle of surly faced Slytherin's to glare at her, unmistakably resenting her very existence, yet pleased that she was visibly struggling even to move another inch. They began to snigger at her discomfort and soreness, a hidden leader with platinum blond hair goading them from the centre of the collection of bodies. Looking a little worried, Hermione hurriedly gathered her cargo tightly, and tried yet again to desperately clamber up the stairs, intent on getting as far from them as possible, even if it meant being closer to her own Master. Yet by the time she reached the fifth floor, Hermione was collapsing again already, her knees buckling, the pain in her temples becoming ever more so as her Master called out to her impatiently for food he did not even truly require. She could barely think for it, not even enough to remember how to walk the stairs, her body becoming numb from it. She slid slowly down an adjacent wall and to the floor, seeing spots of light dance in front of her eyes, barely able to place the condiments around her as carefully as she possibly could, feeling her head begin to droop down lazily. She could just hear someone coming closer, footsteps heavy and hurried in her direction, despite having been the only one she could see along any of the staircases. All she could think was that Ron was coming for her, ready to punish her for making him wait so long, to starve without his appetite receiving provisions for over an hour. She readied herself for the shout, the forcible yank of her arms and the aggressive shove towards Gryffindor Tower. Yet it never came. There was no violence, no swearing, and no hurt. Instead the steps stopped before her, knelt, and held her as closely and as tightly as possible, the pain in her body ebbing slightly, diminishing with every passing second until she was calm enough to understand what was happening around her and let her eyes close in comfort. "I haff missed you." Came a strong and rough deep voice, whispering softly into her ear. Hermione's eyes shot open and she quickly detached herself from his chest, staring widely,

"Viktor?" She breathed,

"Hermy-own-ninny." He smiled back at her, he eyes alight in the candlelight. She puts her hands hesitantly upon his chest, barely able to even believe that he was in front of her, then upon his broad and firm shoulders and then up to his face, seeking the final confirmation that he was real. She paused, and then smiled broadly, more so than she had in months, dragging him tightly into her, almost sobbing at his mere presence.

"Oh Viktor!" They sat huddle upon the floor, cuddling securely together, "How can you be here?" She lifted her head to look into his dazzling eyes, searching desperately and impatiently for an answer before he even had a chance to speak,

"I vanted to see you again, since you did not come to me. I'm at Hogvarts for the year." They positively beamed at one another, enjoying their moment together, "Even Dumbledore has allowed it, I am thinking." Yet, as if from nowhere, a great booming voice leapt over them, shattering the little comfort that they had found, leaving Hermione cringing and red-faced, barely even able to lift her head up towards the voice,

"Not again..." She whispered,

"Just remember this year Krum," Came her Master's voice, "She's my slave, not yours!"

~x~x~x~

Ron had sat steadily relaxing upon his bed with a recently returned Neville, waiting for his food and feeling justly right that he had done something good after a hard day's work of doing absolutely nothing. He huffed loudly and Neville raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him, from his own bed. "Where the hell is she? It's not difficult to just bring me some food up here. Just a bit of food!" Neville scoffed at him, closing his eye, almost ignoring his comment completely. "I'm gonna call her again, I hope to Merlin it annoys the shit out of her." He began repeatedly pressing the ring upon his finger for some time, laughing a little maliciously, and only stopping when Neville looked at him disapprovingly.

"How can you do that to her?"

"Do what?" Came Ron's reply, oblivious to anything that could possibly be wrong with his actions.

"You do know what those objects do to the Muggleborns, don't you?" Ron nodded as though his friend believed him to be stupid,

"It calls them obviously." He said foolishly, and caused Neville to look undecided on whether to reveal the truth to him, and finally settling on not, allowing them to fall into silence once more.

"How did it all go with Loony?" Ron asked casually allowing a few moments to pass, suddenly surprised as a pillow violently connected with his face, causing him to topple backwards.

"Don't you dare call her that!" Ron shoved himself back up and looked over to Neville, his friend's face burning bright as the blood that pulsated swiftly around his body.

"Alright! Sorry mate, how did it go though?" As though it were even possible, his face burned brighter, almost glowing in the dimmed light of their dormitory,

"O...Okay..." He stammered out as confidently as he could, "We talked a lot. She's...She's really lovely."

"That's what you're calling it is it?" Ron sniggered lightly at his expense, not even able to imagine a bumbling Neville doing anything with anyone.

"Shut it!" Neville huffed slightly as Ron chuckled at him still more. A few more moments passed before Ron huffed again, lying back down onto his bed,

"I'm seriously gonna kill her myself." He sat straight back up and then shuffled to the edge of his bed, standing up with a loud thud, "I'm going to go and get her. I'm starving and she's in for it." He banged his way past Neville, and raged down the stone steps, past a group of frolicsome first years and towards the corridor, slamming the portrait of the Fat Lady open wildly, earning a small muffled 'ow' from the lady herself. Marching towards the edge of the staircase, he readily peered over the banister, scanning around for his slave rapidly. Noticing a small figure that lay huddled against a corridor wall a few floors below him, he could see no one else. Squinting he strained his neck forwards, catching a wash of bushy hair bent over a red and golden dress, still and unmoving, looking as though they were barely breathing, "Hermione." He half-gasped, eyes widening steadily. He bolted, sprinting down the stairs as quickly as he could, stumbling slightly as his long legs became tangled in themselves. Scrambling along the fifth floor, he had almost reached her sluggish form as someone stepped up from the fourth floor. Ron wheezed loudly and instinctively dove behind a large, clattering suit of armour, whose head followed him all the way around suspiciously peering down at him. As he saw Viktor Krum go to her and embrace her tightly, Ron began to anger, feeling his stomach burning harshly within him, a sickeningly acidic feeling gurgling in the pit of his abdomen. Forgetting all of his senses, Ron shifted from behind his hiding place, standing defiantly, growling deeply at them both, only just catching Krum's final soft words,

"I vanted to see you. I'm at Hogvarts for the year." Ron didn't think twice, didn't stop to even consider the consequences, allowing his body to voice what should have remained inside of his head, unheard and silent,

"Just remember this year Krum," He boomed, drawing himself to his full height and baring down upon them both, seeing Hermione freeze like a deer caught in headlights, "She's my slave, not yours!" He saw the two of them spin full circle, shocked by his presence, a sense of déjà vu overwhelming them as Hermione's face beamed scarlet as he spoke.

"Ron!" Hermione cried, but stuttered, trying vigorously to correct herself, "M...Master! Um...er...Master Krum is visiting; I was just...just..." She spluttered, struggling for words, barely able to explain herself, gulping hard, even though really, there should have been no explanation to be given. Ron strode down the stairs, his long legs allowing him to swiftly reach them in seconds, where he took Hermione firmly by the wrist, dragging her up to her feet and putting an arm around her shoulder tightly and pulling him into her.

"I'm sure, Hermione, that he can find his way to the Headmasters office without your assistance to sign in." He was glaring at Viktor as he bent down quickly, snapping up the pumpkin juice promptly and thrusting it at Hermione, before taking the tray upon himself. "Good day." He gave Hermione a large shove up the stairs, causing her to stumble slightly, desperately trying to prevent any liquid spilling from her carafe. Whenever she tried to turn to look at Viktor, to perhaps apologise for her Master's rude behaviour, she would receive yet another propelling push from behind, until she could no longer see Viktor as they breached the seventh floor.

"How can you do that to me?" Hermione said suddenly, turning around to face her Master, "I can't even have friends now?" Ron stopped suddenly behind her, an evil glare flashing across his face, his knuckles whitening as he gripped his food tighter,

"There's a difference between having friends and you thinking you can skip out on your work, slave!" He spat at her bitterly, knowing how much the remark would hurt her, wanting to punish her for daring to even question him, for daring to have associated with Viktor in his presence. He made a sudden move towards her, yet Hermione stumbled backwards from him, almost falling, sloshing a large amount of the pumpkin juice over her dress and onto the floor noisily. Yet all Hermione could do was stare up at him wide-eyed, determined and yet fearful, wanting desperately to fight her corner, fight for Viktor. Without warning, she gave a shriek, a shriek that she never expected to leave her lips,

"You can't control my life!" She was fighting not to cry in front of him, she had not given him the pleasure of seeing her tears for many years now, and refused to let him have that twisted delight in that moment. She saw his face distort further, fury now ablaze upon his features. With a sudden flick of his wrist the plate fell, clattering to the flooring stridently, various pieces of fruit, meat and cheeses spraying disgustingly upon the stone floor, flecking back up at them.

"You think I don't control you Granger? You think you can run free and piss about with that git? Well I'm telling you this," He bent down to her level and took a hold of the front of her tunic and dragged her forwards, noses almost touching, his stony features drinking in every single inch of hers, seeing her terror, feeling her apprehension, knowing that deep within her lay a dormant force awaiting to be awoken, "Clean it up. Clean yourself. And get your arse upstairs." Ron stood up abruptly, straightening his back and walking straight over her, "NOW!"

* * *

><p><em>Japan's Arc Angel x<em>


	6. Chapter Six: Invitations

_First of all I just wanna say, WOW! I am amazed at everyone's such kind words towards my last chapter and would like to say a thankyou to **Rommy** for a vigil and speedy response to every chapter; **Twiggy** for all the wonderful compliments and for the amount of reading; and **pearls-and-crystal-blues** for such an in-depth review and a great insight into how my literature comes across. Secondly, here's chapter six! I'm building up to chapter seven, something I've had planned for a while yet, that I'm very excited about :) Though I hope this 'half-filler' chapter is still as good :D oh and also, before anyone mentions, just in case, Viktor's speech is intentional and not purely spelling mistakes! :)_

_Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes :P_

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Six: Invitations<span>

Hermione stirred noisily, her head shifting from side to side comfortably upon a bed, much more than could be said for her knees and numbed legs. She could see herself within her mind's eye, cuddled up in her own little bed, the crisp white sheets falling over her small body as she dreamed away her life, full of books and knowledge and magic that she could explore to her heart's content, free from persecution and free from restraint. She smiled peacefully and allowed her eyes to flutter open, fully expecting to come face to face with the photo frames containing pictures of her family and her few friends atop her dark oak bedside chest of drawers, a crisp morning air drafting in through the vents in her window. Instead, there came only the face of her Master, loud snores reverberating around the room and a trail of dribble leading from his lip and into a puddle upon his bed sheets. She groaned in disgust and then sat up straighter, trying to stretch herself out, her arms anaesthetized from the weight of her head being rested on them since the night before. She looked around her and to Carla who was curled up at the bottom of Harry's bed, slightly tangled up in the drapes that hung there, sleepily grinning at her. She smiled back and attempted to stand, pushing herself up with her head, and she swayed heavily, wondering whether she would be able to even stand fully. Her legs felt like jelly, barely able to move, seized in their place. Eyes wide and straining, she hauled herself up using Ron's bed as assistance, only to topple forwards heavily, unable to use her arms to stop herself, knocking the wind right out of her Master and forcing him to bolt upright, exhaling through a deep bellowing moan. Hermione's face fell in utter shock as she tried to regain herself and push back off of him, successfully releasing herself, only for her legs to give way again, allowing her to crash to and flail about the floor wildly. A strange sound escaped her throat, a strangled and stifled cry as she writhed, an inhuman noise which was more likely to have come from Crookshanks than her. A slight giggle wafted over her as Carla peered over the edge of her own Master's bed, her bum pushed high up in the air, with he himself sat up, a slightly bemused look plastered upon his face, squinting over at her, a hand wafting about the top of his bedside drawers, looking for his glasses. The other boys within the dormitory who had previously been fast asleep begun to stir, hazily craning their necks over their sheets to look at her. Yet she found only one face, burning brightly with both anger and embarrassment at her, as she had seen so many times before. She cringed, allowing her hair to cover her face messily as she looked to the floor, anticipating the coming shrieks that would undoubtedly leave his lips. She could hear a low growl rumbling in his throat and readily braced herself for any rage he was about to unleash upon her. Yet it never came, instead he simply stood in front of her, landing heavily and then stomped away noisily. Giving a large sigh of relief she turned back to Carla, grinning widely, only to find her friends face paled and uncomfortable. Hermione suddenly began looking scared, not daring to question the horror that had appeared in Carla's face. She felt something cushioning hit her abruptly hard in the back of her head, despite how soft it was, pushing her forwards a little from the force. Realisation dawning on her about what had hit her; she winced and snapped her head around towards her Master, her face etched with a sense of begging, head shaking violently from side to side in small, swift movements. He smirked evilly, nodding at the horror upon her face as she looked down to her maids outfit. She gave a small fake cry as he began to change behind the screen by his bed, clearly not caring about her feelings or opinion, allowing her to loll about upon the floor, amusing the rest of the room. Hermione continued omitting fake cries simply to annoy her Master, before Ron's voice cut through her, "Granger!" She stopped and looked up to him, hoping beyond everything that he had changed his mind, out of the possible kindness within his heart. "Change! Now!" She winced slightly, but pulled herself from the floor nonetheless, lazily dragging herself over towards the screen that her Master had just appeared from behind, dressed in his Gryffindor robes. As the room disappeared from her view, Hermione sighed, and, holding the dress up high, she thought back to that fateful day in which it had been previously purchased. Both she and Ron had walked from Hogwarts, the long way back down towards Hogsmeade, the small village coming into view as they had passed by a diminutive forest. She had gasped giddily, seeing the village only for a second time since the night of her arrival, running past her Master and towards the picturesque cluster of thatched cottages, small enchanted candles hanging about the trees surrounding it, illuminating the path towards it. She could see the small train station, which The Hogwarts Express had pulled up at every year, transporting students to and from home as she had done so herself, surrounded by various homes belonging to the residents of Hogsmeade. A range of shops lined a single street, surrounded by a scattering of quaint café's and bustling pubs, filled with students, staff and residents alike. Her breath leaving her, Hermione had giggled wildly, wanting to explore, knowing that she would never visit again unless Ron asked her to accompany him in three years time. He had shouted to her, "Granger! Get here! That's an order!" She had winced as pain had shot through her, yet she could barely contain her excitement, hurriedly turning and trudging back to him through the slippery sludge underfoot. He gave her a disapproving look and then continued on his way, expecting her to follow, as she did willingly. As the two of them had walked through the small street, Hermione could barely contain herself, gazing at the various names of the different shops and looking into the windows as much as she could,

"Honeydukes..." She had muttered, her eyes wide, "Potage's Cauldron Shop..." She noted the high turrets of cauldrons, threatening to tip over, and she giggled at the notion. Turning to the opposite side of the street she gasped excitedly, "Ollivander's Wand Shop!" Her face had broken into a large smile, almost running forwards, but stopping as Ron rounded on her angrily. She had shuddered, and then returned to his side, following him again, disheartened that she would not be able to enter. Yet as they stopped and she turned to her right, her eyes had lit up, burning brightly once more. Crafted high above the door was 'Tomes and Scrolls', and she turned to him in delight, pleading with all of her features for him to take her inside. All she could think was how wonderful her Master really was for bringing her to such a bookshop. 'He really is considerate!' She had thought, oblivious to him walking away from her. She turned, noticing him instead having walked into Gladrags Wizardwear next door. She saw him talking to a woman who had come bustling forwards, a large shaky grin plastered over her face. Hermione moved towards the window of the bookshop, a small hand resting against the glass, staring down at a small black book, 'The Standard Book of Spells, Grade One', captivated And looking longingly at the book before her, "Miranda Goshawk," she had whispered lightly, "She must have been wonderful..." She had heard a bang and Ron's head had popped out of the door and began shouting at her,

"Granger! Get in here now!" She had given the book one last fleeting look and then trudged over to him, and followed him back into the shop. As she had stepped in, Hermione remembered being oblivious to the rest of the shop, despite its immaculate state and the beautiful garments on display there. In front of her, upon a wooden mannequin, had lain the outfit she now held up towards her. Her feelings towards it had not changed in all those years, even when it had reached to knees in that first year. It was still hideous to her, and she could not think for her life why he would choose such a thing for her to wear. She sighed, hearing him shouting at her again now,

"Granger! I want food, NOW! Breakfast doesn't wait for you!" She huffed and quickly finished changing into her derogatory uniform, trying desperately to pull the bottom half further down to cover herself more so and save herself from embarrassment. "GRANGER!" Hermione scuttled from behind the screen, finding him waiting for her by the door, an annoyed and unhappy look plastered over his face, arms folded tightly matching his pursed lips.

~x~x~x~

As Ron sat with Harry and Neville in the Great Hall, munching happily and greedily, none more so than her Master, Hermione stood behind him, a weighty jug of pumpkin juice in her hands, dragging her down towards the floor. She huffed, shifting the load slightly, allowing the tension in one arm to disperse slightly, but only putting strain upon the other. She groaned again, pain returning once more, resurfacing in her other arm, causing her to shake a little. She could see the boys messily filling their faces, bits of egg splattering about the table as they thrust their cutlery about rowdily, talking loudly about nothing and everything and laughing at one another's stupidly alarming jokes. Hermione sighed heavily, hearing her Master proclaim loudly, whilst grinning widely, "And then he slapped her!" There was a sudden roar of laughter from all around him, his friends clearly finding ample amounts of amusement from this particular punch line, but her brows only furrowed in frustration, having heard the story several hundred times before over the past five years of having to attend various meals with him. She could not contain herself, it was impossible, her brain in overdrive. She exhaled deeply, speaking before her brain could tell her otherwise, a force controlling her that she could not pinpoint,

"For Merlin's sake Ronald! It's just not even funny! You are ridiculous!" She glared down at him with heated intent as everyone fell silent, shocked at the sudden outburst of a mere Muggleborn slave against her Pureblooded Master. Within seconds Hermione realised what had sprouted from her vocal chords, and she clasped a hand to her gaping mouth, dropping the jug noisily, allowing the thick orange syrupy liquid to cover the floor and the two of them. There came a hushed whisper from about the hall, various students pointing in their direction, whispering, laughing, until a Slytherin, whom she immediately recognised as Vincent Crabbe, friend to the Deputy Minister's son, with his short plump body and deep growling voice, called over to them,

"Oi! Weasley! Keep your bitch under control! This is becoming a regular entertainment at breakfast!" A great howl of laughter erupted through the hall as his fellow students cackled and screamed insults at Hermione, as Goyle sat back down, clearly pleased with himself, leaving only the scattered Muggleborns staying silent, even through their mild amusement. Hermione bit her lip hard, hanging her head in thorough shame. She left her arm be pulled downwards violently, and she came face to face with Ron, staring into his enraged face, who raised his voice brutally at her once more,

"I bring you here to punish you and this is what you do? Show me up! Do you want a worse punishment? Do you want to see how far you can push me? Do you?" His face was burning brightly as her lip trembled slightly, eyeing the insides of his robes cautiously, seriously considering the only punishment worse that what she had already had. She shook her head violently, catching Harry's eye just behind her Master's head, who winked at her playfully. Her Master let her go and he straightened immediately, standing stiffened on the spot, now not daring to move.

"Come on Ron," Harry interrupted, spinning his friend around, back towards the table with one great yank of his head, "Eat your sausage mate." He shoved a large sausage to the back of Ron's throat before he could reply, not particularly caring as he choked slightly, but suspected his anger had passed as he began to chew happily regardless. Harry chuckled and whipped out his wand cautiously, hidden beneath the table, noting Hermione's eyes temporarily light up at the sight of it. As a slave, and not normally allowed to witness any form of magic or even be near a wand for fear she would steal away the knowledge of magic, Hermione positively glowed at him, mesmerised as he flicked it gracefully in her direction,

"Scourgify." The spilt pumpkin juice magically evaporated from around them, leaving all the surfaces it had touched completely spotless and untouched, other than the new flecks of food that Ron was now depositing about. He smiled up at her and then replaced his wand quickly before bending down to pick up the empty jug and handing it to her. "I think you should go and get some more before he kills you." She nodded slightly, grateful for his kindness, understanding why Carla regarded him so highly. Hermione turned from him, smiling, and then rushed up towards the far end of the hall, her small legs carrying her to the large doors leading to the Entrance Hall. Here she placed the jug upon a small table, allowing it to refill itself to the brim with fresh cool juice. As she turned around, ready to make her way back towards her Master, she jumped slightly, trying not to spill another drop, as Viktor came into her view and standing in front of her.

"Oh! Viktor!" She smiled up at him and he did so back to her, attempting to take her into his arms and embrace her, yet giving up rather quickly because of the jug being so large and taking up much of her arm and chest space. Instead, he took it from her and began to make his way back towards her Master further down the table. "Oh no!" She rushed into him, laughing slightly, placing her hands over his on the jug and trying to pull it from him, "Let me take it." Yet he pushed away her hands gently, looking determined,

"My dearest Hermy-own-ninny, anything vor you. Especially as I vont zee you for ze day." He carried on his way and she smiled gently, walking next to him, confidently ignoring the stares and glares from the girls sat around her, hissing and looking as though they were ready to pounce upon her and claw her eyes out.

"Thank you."

"There iz something I vish to discuss vith you." He looked down at her, "About the upcoming vall that your school iz hoosting." He whispered to her, but she simply looked confusedly up at him, thinking he was quite possibly mistaken.

"A ball? As in a dance? I didn't even know we were." She said rather loudly, causing Viktor to flinch and panic slightly,

"Shhh!" He hastened at her, giving a fleeting sheepish look around them both, checking that no one had become aware of her outburst. Aware that they were very close to Ron now, Viktor rushed himself before they were within earshot, babbling on to her, "The Muggleborns are not meant to know aboutz it. It iz only for zose who are off higher blood status, I am told. Ve vill talk later." He nodded largely at her, which she returned hastily, understanding the need for secret urgency, following his inclined head toward her fellow Gryffindor's. She saw Neville give Ron a small nudge in the arm, who gave him a confused stare in return and then followed his extended finger, beginning to glare at the two people who were steadily approaching him. He snapped his head back towards the table, returning to his food, viciously stabbing at his plate with a knife, missing every single item and causing several beans to fly from his platter, landing near a disgusted Ginny, who snorted loudly at him, muttering,

"Pig."

As Hermione and Viktor stood behind them, Viktor slammed the jug down rather loudly next to a disgruntled Ron and turned to the slightly sniggering girl stood beside the tall foreigner. "Here, I leafe you Hermy-own-ninny. Come to me later?" He completely ignored a seething Ron and carefully took her hand in his own and bowed low to her, kissing her dorsum gently. Hermione blushed scarlet, burning as a few of the people around them stared intently and jeered at her. After the previous year, the school had become accustomed to the lavish way in which Viktor treated her, and though many now barely took any notice whatsoever, those who did, did so with great resent. Many regarded him as a traitor for even daring to imply that there could exist a relationship between a Muggleborn and a Pureblood, whilst others simply could not understand how a girl of Hermione's calibre could capture the attention of such a handsome and important man. Hermione could have easily mistaken their glare for jealousy, but her own knowledge of her status simply confirmed that it was only hatred or sympathy that she saw in their eyes, not really even wanting to look at her in the first place.

"Granger." Came Ron's dangerously low growl, and she reluctantly turned to him slowly, but was pulled back abruptly by Viktor,

"And Hermy-own-ninny," He stood up tall and dropped her hand lightly, instead putting a hand through her hair,

"Granger." Ron repeated harsher, this time holding up his goblet at her, despite his eyes remaining fixed to his plate,

"You look beautiful today." Breathed Viktor, causing her blood to rapidly boil beneath her skin, flushing her entire body scarlet, unable to even respond to him.

"Hermione!" She turned slightly to look at Ron, remembering why she was there in the first place, suddenly becoming very conscious of her outfit being deemed as 'beautiful'. "Hermione, juice." Ron demanded of her again, and she looked around, uncomfortable and awkward, giving Viktor a small wave goodbye as he turned from her, leaving her to stretch out over her Master and lift the jug for him as Viktor walked away, slyly smirking to himself.

~x~x~x~

Luna giggled loudly, swishing her long blond hair about her, and flicking her limbs from side to side as she skipped about the Ravenclaw Common Room. Resting against the marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw, stood tall in all her glory, Luna peered up towards her stony face, looking beautiful yet intimidating, an accurate representation of her wise and willing power. Luna sighed, singing to herself a little, "Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure..." She then skipped back over to Kevin, who sat upon a small cobalt velvet couch, smiling over at her. She came past him, suddenly tripping over the midnight blue carpet, and toppling to the floor with an almighty thud, apparently feeling slight pain at least, and yet having no regard for it. "Oh Kevin!" She giggled a little, "I'm meeting Neville tonight. He's so wonderfully articulate," She sounded so ephemeral, like a long past graceful and aged spirit, inelegantly sprawled about the floor of Ravenclaw Tower,

"You must be very taken with him then Mistress, is this young Gryffindor possibly the one?" Kevin grinned manically, raising a wiggling eyebrow at her.

"Kevin! Of course not." She said politely, sitting up and staring at him, "Not for me. I'm helping with his associations with Hannah Abbott. She's quite a beautiful witch you know."

"Mistress Abbott? She's Justin's Mistress. And we're both friends with Hermione, Weasley's servant. We could help maybe?" Kevin shuffled closer to the edge of the sofa, peering down at her, ever closer, a slightly distasteful look upon his face for having to mention Ron. His Mistress looked up at him, thinking hard, though her face did not appear challenged in the slightest, remaining peaceful and pale.

"Perhaps later, and you really need to remember he's Master Weasley though, or you'll get yourself into lots of trouble. Though really, if I think about it, I should be focusing on my own little Hufflepuff, Rolf Scamander, he's very thoughtful when it comes to naturalism, and wants to become a Magizoologist. I think biologically we could be a very good match, don't you?" He shook his head slightly, smiling at her logic, not quite sure if she understood that compatibility shouldn't really enter the equation,

"Biologically matched? What about loving each other?" He asked thoughtfully, pushing his Mistress a little,

"Oh, and that too." She said thoughtfully, "I think it's easy to love someone though, the hard part is to get them to love you back. Even just being allowed to love them is difficult sometimes though." She looked down to her small smooth bare feet and began fiddling with the necklace of butterbeer corks that hung around her neck limply, dreamily distracted by seemingly nothing.

"Don't I know it," Kevin sat back in his seat, staring towards the darkened ceiling.

"You're interested in someone you shouldn't be? A Mistress? Or maybe even Hermione?" She said flatly, causing him to practically choke upon the air in his lungs, not daring to even answer, "That'll be a yes then." He flushed pink, and stuttered,

"We...we're just friends Mistress! It doesn't work like that!" He was shifting in his seat rapidly and uncomfortably, no longer able to look her in the eye.

"I'm just glad that it's not a Mistress, or even worse myself. I would have shot you down like an airless, limp zeppelin. Of course, though maybe you could always give her a present and try to woo her using your charm. I would highly recommend these." She held up the dirigible plum radish earrings that hung from her lobes, smiling obliviously at his awkwardly flustered face,

"Believe me Mistress, there is nothing between us! She's my friend; she always has been and always will be. There can't be and won't be anything more." He babbled out, barely able to form audible words, simply rambling on at her pointlessly, "Just friends."

"Well I suppose there's no point then, especially when you put it that way. Besides, she's already interested in someone anyway. Someone that's far different to you, someone that really, really cares about her." His head shot up, eyes meeting his Mistress's, confusion spread across a hurt face, not understanding what or who she could possibly mean,

"Who?" He demanded, a little more forcefully than he should have or intended to, looking ever more distressed, and unable to think who it possibly could be. His face was twisted in disgust, ready to argue wildly, deny that this was even a possibility, but dropped suddenly, remembering who he was talking to, and falling silent.

"It doesn't really matter," She ignored the tone of his voice, instead standing and beginning to walk away from him and towards the dormitories; "Nothing could come of it anyway." She left him to stare after her, dumbfounded by her proclamation, looking to his hands and momentarily running several names through his head.

'Master Potter...he's always kind to her...no no, she doesn't really even associate with him. Only when she has to. Master Weasley? No, definitely not, he's such a twat to her. No one could possible find that ugly git attractive.' He gasped, "Justin? Nooo, don't be stupid Kevin, she knows he's interested in someone already, besides, we're all best friends!" He sat back again, thinking hard, his eyes closing slowly. They snapped open very suddenly, barely having shut them for a second, "Krum!"

~x~x~x~

"Why do you do things like that to me Granger? Why must you insist on taking the complete piss whenever we go out anywhere?" Hermione straightened her back, turning on the spot, still holding her sweeping brush poised for movement, raising a questioning eye to her Master who was currently occupying an armchair in a corner of their currently deserted Common Room. It was late, and as punishment for her earlier outburst she had been ordered to clean the entire room and had been confined to silence, until now. He had made his anger for her obvious, and punished her further by finding her a truly hideous hat to wear, one which he claimed to match her so called 'beauty'. She stood, brushing a tentacle from the overly large neon green octopus shaped hat from her face, fully aware of its large googly eyes wobbling about the top of her head, studying her Master for a few seconds, watching as he tried to make sense of something inside of his copy of Magical Drafts And Potions, unsure of whether really to answer him.

"I didn't use to be like this." She quickly turned away, returning to her sweeping, unaware that he had lowered his book, taken aback by her response, though trying not to snort as the hat wobbled about her head.

"What do you mean?"

"Look, I'm from a small town, always been careful, always had a fear of failing and being a disappointment. My parents, they made mistakes, lots of them, Daddy's so careless...they used to argue a lot when I was little, scared me, never wanted to be like them." She stopped moving, gripping the broom tighter, unable to keep moving, allowing the material about her head to fall over her, covering her face a little. She always missed her parents deeply, always upset that she was never able to tell them the truth about what happened at her school, too ashamed to reveal what she had become, too hurt with all of her lies.

"What does that have to do with anything? You're careful, more so than anyone, what does that mean?" Ron was clearly confused, not knowing what his slave could possibly be talking about, frustrated that she was apparently talking in riddles.

"It's true, or was. But not anymore. It doesn't stop me being their daughter though. You made me how I am today." She turned her head slightly to look out of the window at the dying sky, placing a hand upon the window ledge and looking out over towards the Great Lake.

"It's not my bloody fault you're an ignorant cow." Ron spat heatedly, seeing Hermione flinch involuntarily, biting her lip to hold herself back.

"Do you remember that week, when we first went to sit by the water?" Hermione whispered, clearly remembering the night with clarity. They had been at Hogwarts only a week when Hermione had put her foot, quite accidentally, straight through the drapes around her Master's bed. He had immediately whipped out his wand, threatening her with it for the first time, sending fear and shock through her, causing her to bolt for the door. She had run faster that day than she could ever remember, not stopping until her Master had caught up to her by a tall tree at the foot of the deep waters of the lake. He had chased her, not once stopping until he had caught and pinned her against the tree, demanding she explained herself,

"What the hell Granger?" He had screamed at her as she shrieked hysterically, sliding ungraciously down the tree and spluttering at him,

"I just wanted a school where I'd have friends for once!" Hermione recalled how uncomfortable he had looked in that instant and how he had not spoken to her, instead sitting beside her and putting an awkward arm around her shoulders, a little unsure of what else he could really do. Now she saw her Master nodding at her, though slightly embarrassed and possibly not wanting to remember that night,

"I never expected you to come after me you know. It's not what I've ever known. Other than people here, I don't really have any friends...Not many anyway. Too much of a know-it-all bookworm for friends. But I'm not her anymore; my knowledge is nothing now really. You made sure of that." She turned back to Ron, who was now staring at her intently; unsure of whether he should really be proud of such an accomplishment,

"So, I'm the reason you're a rebellious bitch then?" He snapped his book shut loudly, looking frustrated with both her and his apparent homework.

"If that's how you really want to put it...Sir."

"Well, let's see how smart you are. I know that you listen in to me and Harry when you shouldn't be. So, what are the three most crucial ingredients in a Forgetfulness Potion?" He eyed her carefully, seeing her stiffen, not hearing her say a word.

"I...how would I know..." Hermione's heart was beating wildly, knowing in herself that she had been caught out, that the information was within her, ready to be spoken aloud.

"Bullshit!" She span around to look at him, a little upset at his outburst, feeling within herself that it was completely unneeded from him. She felt uncomfortable, only able to return to her sweeping over a spot that could be swept no further, completely free from dirt or dust. "That's it. I'm going to bed." He gathered up various pieces of parchment from the floor, stuffing them inside of his book and into his arms and putting his quills in his mouth, before making his way over towards her and whipped the hat from her head before heading for the stone staircase, ready to ascend. Yet as he took the first step, he heard Hermione speak, confident and clear, bringing a small and unseen smile to his face before he left her sight for his bed,

"Lethe River Water, mistletoe berries, and valerian sprigs..."

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><p><em>Japan's Arc Angel x<em>


	7. Chapter Seven: It Started With A Dance

_I recently received a review giving a rather lengthy complained and detailed explaination of exactly why Harry would not be friends with is clearly some kind of issue with people just not understanding that this IS an AU story, and that does undoubtedly come with some OOCness. Also, considering I have at least another thirteen chapters planned, Ron's character and the story have not yet begun to even develop and show other ides to him, although I have already tried to add slight indications and hints towards this. If you think my story is 'ridiculous' then please, don't read it, and don't feel the need to call it so! If I'm not doing enough to give hints of what is to come with Ron or if people are now getting bored and just want me to unveil the entire plot and finish the story within the next two chapters so that he seems more like the standard Ron, then I will, please let me know and please review! I personally enjoyed writing this chapter the most! P.S **pearls-and-crystal-blues**, this is for you!_

_Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes :P_

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><p><span>Chapter Seven: It Started With A Dance<span>

"Viktor, I can't! I just can't!" Hermione flapped her arms about at him wildly, very thankful that they were alone whilst she did so to save herself from embarrassment. The two were both sat, side by side, upon a small patch of luscious grass by the Great Lake, staring out over the dark waters, into the visible distance and towards the sugar-dusted, looming, remote mountains.

"Vy not? The girls must ve masked, no von vil no it's you." He gently placed a hand upon hers, smiling suggestively, almost pushing her into agreeing.

"Viktor! Muggleborns aren't even meant to know about this, do you understand the repercussions if I'm found out?" He groaned at her and rolled his eyes as obviously as he possibly could,

"Herm-own ninny! Yoo cannot possibly leaf me wiz the girls of this school. I haff only escaped the year last because of yoo." Viktor looked to her pleadingly, seeing her close her eyes tightly, a torn look plastered upon her already shocked and confused face. Her face had been tending this way ever since she had met up with him but an hour ago by the Transfiguration Courtyard, where she was quickly swept away by him, up to the lake where they could be alone. A secret Christmas Ball was due he had told her eagerly, one that apparently occurred every single year without any of the Muggleborns knowledge or awareness, kept hidden and undisclosed. Meant as a bonding ceremony, the boys would dress in their finest, the girls made beautiful and anonymous through intricate masks and large dresses, curiously but tastefully designed. Yet, now as Hermione though back to the Yule Ball the previous year, she remembered first seeing her Master in his dress robes, feeling certain that she had seen them somewhere before, late in the night as he had ushered her away upon various duties before disappearing for the night. Yet she had pushed this from her mind, thought herself stupid or mistaken, and knowing only now that she had been perfectly correct. "Besides, I haff already purchased a dress vor yoo." Hermione looked to him idiotically, thinking only that surely what he was asking of her was absurd, ludicrous even, something that she couldn't possibly do without arousing suspicion, something that could not be accomplished without punishment. Yet, he had already bought her a dress, and she had had a truly wonderful time with him the previous year, Hermione's mind began to whirl, perhaps she could get away with it, and learn how the other half of the school lived their lives fully,

'I could do this...' She thought, the possibilities of defying her position as a slave exciting her passionately, causing her heart to beat riotously. She looked up at his determined figure, her face full of fear and exhilaration, barely able to breathe, "Alright then."

~x~x~x~

Ron was stood side by side with Harry, the two of them admiring themselves in a full length mirror that they had had brought up to them by Dobby but an hour before. The two of them were clad in an oversized formal black robe with a white, buttoned-down shirt tucked tidily underneath, clearly made of quite expensive material. "You know what Harry, this must be the best thing I've ever been given. I can't bloody believe Fred and George." Harry chuckled at his best friend, knowing that they had only bought them for him due to Harry giving them his winnings from the Triwizard Tournament the previous year and joking to them about purchasing Ron a set. He clapped a hand to Ron's back, giving a small look behind him to see Hermione chancing a sneak peek from his bedside where she was casually folding Ron's clothing, making it far too obvious that she was pretending not to notice them both. He saw Hermione become aware that she was being watched and tinge pink, returning quickly to her folding and allowing Harry to return to facing the mirror.

"Well you should be glad of it; especially after those awful things you wore last year. Ancient..." Ron cringed at Harry's words and the mere thought of the repulsively embarrassing robes he had worn the previous year. They had been full of frills and lace, a more traditional form of robes, lovingly bought second-hand by his mother who had suggested that if he wished to instead go naked, Harry could deliver a photograph of the momentous occasion. Even though a reluctant Ron had eventually agreed to wear them, he had attempted a badly performed severing charm which, although got rid of the lace, left the edges looking frayed and worn, causing just as much humiliation, and did not deter those around from laughing at him. Even now, Ron could not push the disgusted face of Padma Patil from his mind, who had arrived in bright turquoise robes, looking beautiful with her various pieces of traditional Indian gold jewellery and having allowed her long black hair to fall free, only being lavishly decorated with small golden clips. Her normally beautiful face had contorted, barely able to even speak to Ron.

"She hated me dressed like that didn't she?" He laughed, Harry giving a small smile in return, never himself wanting to return to that night. There came a small, barely heard cough from behind them,

"Master Ron?" They both turned suddenly to look at Hermione who nonchalantly held up a pair of his bright orange underpants to fold, causing Ron to redden instantly and almost shamefully.

"Granger! Put those away will you!" She gave him a sneaky grin and proceeded to fold them using large sweeping movements, taking as much time as she possibly could,

"Please Master Ron," She said sweetly, sugar coating each and every word that escaped her lips, "Why are you dressed in your robes of finest? Surely there is nowhere for you to go in them."

"Nowhere!" He snapped at her, still full of mortification at her brandishing of his undergarments, "Go wash my Quidditch kit!" She sat there stunned into silence by his sudden outburst, unsure of whether he actually wanted the kit rewashing or it was just to get rid of her, disallow her from asking anymore questions regarding the 'secret' ball.

"But of course Sir!" She said slyly, almost daring herself to laugh at him, encouraging herself to push him as far as she could, "But may I say, those robes are simply divine, much better than those ugly shreds of cloth you boldly dared to entertain us all with last year." She knew before she had finished she had gone too far, seeing his face swell with every word that left her lips. She dived suddenly as one of his shoes flew at her, followed by the other, narrowly missing her head by millimetres. She saw his hand fly into his robes, yet did not emerge as Harry quickly pulled him free and back them both into a wall, whispering something to him that Hermione could not hear, nor decipher. Still furious Ron looked back to her murderously over Harry's shoulder,

"NOW!" Hermione didn't need telling twice, hurriedly gathering his scattered kit into her arms, not daring to drop a single thing. She was glad of the excuse to leave him before she created an even worse situation, also giving her the chance to thoroughly prepare herself for the coming night and to try to remove the daunting prospect from her mind of Harry having just saved her from being punished magically for the first time.

~x~x~x~

Hermione could feel her organs physically shaking inside of her with every rattling breath, nervousness engulfing her entire body like never before. She had never attended anything that caused her so much peril, not even her surprise entrance at the Yule Ball could compare to this. She stood in the warm and busy kitchens, surrounded by house elves, wishing her luck and complimenting her stunningly different appearance. Hermione stood, legs shaking and ready to buckle, suddenly contemplating whether she could really go through with what she was about to do, unable to understand if the outcome to the risk was worth it. Her bare shoulders prickled with goose bumps, and she attempted to warm herself, taking off her elbow length white silk gloves and rubbing her skin furiously to little effect. "Bloody freezing," She muttered to herself, feeling rather stupid and honestly preferring her floaty periwinkle blue dress from the previous year, but a chuckle from behind her caused her to turn unexpectedly. Justin and Kevin stood before her, having supposedly just appeared out of the fireplace, smiling widely at her in admiration. Crookshanks sat upon Kevin's shoulders lazily looking over to his Mistress, before jumping down and skipping over to her, and under her dress, entangling himself around her ankles lovingly. She lifted up the front of the slim dress, just enough to reveal the feline as he up at her purred playfully. "You silly old cat." She knelt down slightly and pulled him out and up into her chest, seeing the two boys now moving towards her out of the corner of her eye.

"Here," Justin said, holding a small black cardboard box out towards her, "They're not much, but I thought they would help." She looked at him quizzically, but reached a hand forward regardless, opening the box slowly by one corner to reveal a small pair of high heeled white peep toe shoes that were studded around the clasps, more beautiful than she had ever seen before. Her face lit up, illuminated further by the bright lights of the kitchen, and she grinned at both of them, face full of joy,

"For me?" Tears were threatening to fall from her eyes, but she managed, only just, to hold them back, not wanting to smudge the light brushings of make-up over her already flattering eyelids.

"Well, we can't let you go to the ball with no shoes now can we Cinderella? Or even worse, your serving shoes!" Justin laughed, pulling them out of the box eagerly and placing them on the floor in front of her. She slipped them on carefully, wobbling indefinitely, causing Crookshanks to jump from her arms disapprovingly and slink away towards a large barrel of salted fish at the other end of the kitchen, disappearing amongst the various elves of the kitchen. She looked down to her feet, admiring their cleanliness, and wishing she had never missed out on such things in the previous years, wishing she had had the opportunity to fulfil her dreams of living a normal teenage girls life. Yet her face fell a little, apprehension apparent in her features, remembering the end of her last ball where she had embarrassed her Master beyond ever before, shouting at him properly for the first and last time, "If you've got such a problem with Viktor then next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!" She had shrieked at him wildly, in front of the entire common room, those words now ringing through her mind clear as when her infuriated and confused brain had presented her with them,

"It's almost eight Hermione, you should be going." Justin interrupted her train of thought, smiling down at her and giving her a little hug about her waist.

"Yeah...I'm not sure that I can do this you know, I mean, what if I'm found out? They could kill me! They could actually kill me for this you know..." She looked up to him pleadingly, almost begging him to talk her out of it, to tell her to run, wash her Master's kit and be done for the night,

"You've already agreed with Krum though, and besides, no one will know. I promise you." He smiled and then beckoned to Dobby, who had just recently dragged an unkempt Crookshanks from the fish and placed the heavy lid over the barrel, earning various hisses and whines from the animal, who continued to paw at the barrel, desperate to worm his way back inside. The elf ran forwards, holding a rather intricately designed white eye mask, itself studded, which she took and placed to her eyes, adjusting it delicately.

"Can barely tell it's you Mistress!" Dobby gasped delightedly, clasping his hands together excitedly. "Though, the earrings give it away somewhat." Hermione lifted her hand to her ear, having not remembered that those pieces of torment even still dangled there, now so used to their weight upon her head. She sighed heavily, thinking hard. Then she snapped her fingers together, an idea formulating,

"Wait!" She ran towards a small cupboard at the back of the kitchen, near Crookshanks who was now face first in fish once more, knelt before it and opened it slowly. She took out a small bag and opened it, retrieving a thin chain of silver that held a heart shaped charm along with a small silver hair piece, which spiralled around as a galaxy would, amongst a field of stars. Turning to them, she held it out for them to see, "My grandmother's, from her wedding day. My mother sent them to me last year for the Yule Ball, but I kept them hidden, in here. If Master had found them, he'd have taken them from me." Walking back towards them, she gathered her hair high upon her head, placing the piece amongst the strands, holding it up and allowing only a few locks to fall back to her face. She arranged it almost messily, so that her ears were fully covered, the earrings tucked safely away inside, "Better?" She asked them eagerly, seeing their nodding heads grinning back at her.

"You look great Hermione." Justin beamed,

"Beautiful..." Breathed Kevin to her, his cheeks flushing pink slightly, causing hers to do the same. A silence fell over them for all but a few seconds before she cleared her throat loudly,

"I had better go then." She made her way past them steadily, barely wobbling in her shoes, giving them a last fleeting smile, and then walking down the corridor out of the kitchen and out of sight.

~x~x~x~

Viktor stood waiting at the bottom of the flight of stairs leading up from the kitchens to the landing of the Entrance Hall. He was nervous in himself just waiting for her, remembering being in the same position the previous year. Clad in his full Durmstrang uniform, he had his hands clasped tightly together and was nodding disappointedly as various gaggles of girls passed him, fluttering their eyelashes and giving small flirtatious waves of their hands, waiting for a smile from him that never came. He had expected this of course, thinking back to the Yule Ball where he had only escaped them by palming them off to his fellow students and sticking as close to Hermione as he possibly could. He remembered the first time she had walked down the steps from the seventh floor and into his open and waiting arms, wearing a beautifully flowing pastel blue dress that had fluttered around her as if enchanted itself. Hermione had looked wonderful to him and both of them has enjoyed a truly magnificent night, until, as she had returned to her common room, a certain Ronald Weasley had appeared, upsetting and causing her to come to him and cry upon his shoulder for the rest of the night. 'This time, it vill be different.' He thought optimistically, refusing to let Ron create a bad situation for them again, 'No von vill no her.' There came a small interrupting cough from behind him and he turned to see a smallish girl, dressed in floor length white material which was bound by a silver band at her waist. The flowing material fell over a barely recognisable Hermione, illuminating her normally scruffily hidden beauty, the only piercing colour amongst all of her pastel like appearance, was her sharp red lips, which contrasted strikingly with her soft features. She smiled widely at him, showing her small white teeth, and she hurried a little up towards him,

"Viktor!" She breathed, a pink tinge enlightening her cheeks slightly. He took her hands within his lightly and kissed the back of them,

"Hermy-own-ninny. You look vondeful." He tucked a long, loose strand of hair back up into the rest and smiled sweetly at her, pulling a hand through his small trimmed beard and then through his short hair, "But remembers, you must not speak. To anyvon." She nodded thoroughly, understanding the need and the urgency of his words and how her actions could impact the situation. He held out an arm for her, which of she took gratefully, slipping a covered arm around his and held a hand gracefully over it. "Gloves?"

"Oh," She looked up to him, rather embarrassed, "I have very rough hands, people may suspect if they're seen. They're not exactly a Mistresses hands." He nodded at her, noting the ingenious idea, wondering what she could have possibly become, ever given the opportunity to studying magic, to reach her full potential and see the world differently. They slowly made their way up the stairs and out onto a deserted landing, walking across the Entrance Hall, ready to enter the Great Hall, the looming wooden doors seeming bigger than they ever had before, like an impassable range of lonely, desolate mountains, never before breached by man. Viktor could feel her physically shaking beside him, both knowing that, apart from the Muggleborns, the entire school stood inside the hall that they were about to enter, boys dressed smartly in their best dress robes, masked girls clad in large yet beautiful dresses, no doubt about to turn and stare at them amidst their various dancing and socialising. He placed his free hand upon her already linked one and held it tight,

"Do not vorry, I am here vor you." She nodded slowly and then breathed deep, both of them staring forwards, slightly stonily. He removed his hand and held it up pushing hard against the wood, allowing the doors to swing open gradually, permitting them to walk arm in arm into the packed, bustling hall.

The room fell silent except for a few background murmurings and the current soft music, that of which Hermione presumed was a wizarding equivalent of Tchaikovsky, playing through the hall as all eyes turned to the couple who had just entered. Hermione drew a great breath only releasing it as Viktor pulled her forwards, out towards the centre of the dance floor, a vast open space that the four full length tables had once occupied, which was instead now surrounded by many smaller round tables, each of which had a large ice-sculpture in their centre, and a vast accompaniment of chairs rather than benches. The ceiling above them was a midnight blue, wisps of cloud whirling through it creating a marble effect, a scattering of stars aiding the floating candles in enlightening the entire hall in a soft basking ephemeral glow. A large Christmas tree stood in the back corner to the side of the Professors' table, decorated with large amounts of tinsel, candles and baubles, randomly floating about the fern, topped with a large bright glowing star. Hermione stared up at it in awe, but was suddenly spun around roughly and unexpectedly to face Viktor, suddenly being held very closely to his chest. She took his hand in hers and placed the other upon his shoulder, resting her elbow high upon his arm, remembering how she had felt the first time, knowing his safe and comfortable touch. She looked into his smiling eyes and nodded confidently, indicating that she was ready for him to take the lead. "Valtz?" He asked, moving his right foot forwards even without a response, allowing her to move backward to accommodate for him, beginning a dance that she had taught him but days before their Yule Ball, knowing that he had learnt it perfectly. Hermione soon relaxed into him, allowing the music to take over her, and let him lead her about the currently deserted floor, oblivious to those watching her who seemed disgruntled and disheartened in their desperate attempts to decipher the identity of the girl before them. Suddenly, from the crowd a boy stood forward, his blond hair plastered back into his pale head, stood tall and completely in black. "Hermy-own-ninny." Viktor whispered, drawing her from her dream-like state and panicking her slightly, her desired world beginning to crack. "Say nothing. A boy iz coming vor you. The son of the deputy minister, I am thinking." Hermione stiffened, barely able to keep herself moving along with him,

'Draco Malfoy? Oh Merlin, he's recognised I'm a slave! I knew it was him that day Viktor arrived, he's recognised me...' She waited and waited for the shout of discovery to come, quivering and barely able to lift her head for fear of throwing up all over her dance partner, waiting for herself to be punished and tortured severely for her noncompliance and defiance of wizarding rules. Yet it never came. Instead, a soft yet cold hand was placed upon her bare shoulder, causing her to positively freeze and then swivel rather unattractively on the spot, eyes wide as a hunted fox. Draco smiled at her, a strange a scary smile that chilled her blood, and pricked at her skin. She gave Viktor one last look, almost begging him to whisk her away immediately, and then accepted his lifted, open hand, being steadily pulled into the arms of a boy who could and most likely would, have her destroyed in an instant if discovered. Yet, he did not regard her as something that had been dragged through a field, spat upon and left for dead in its rightful place, instead showed a more charming side towards her, despite being overall rather arrogant and standoffish in himself. Hermione was very grateful when another tap upon her shoulder came, and as other couples filled the dance floor, she was whisked away by various students of all houses, desperate and eager to dance with the mystery maiden whom no one could decode. Eventually able to escape, Hermione collapsed upon a chair near the very back of the hall by the still wide open doors, allowing a draft of cool air to come over her to freshen her aching body and sooth her slightly swollen feet. She sighed heavily, realising exactly what she had gotten herself into; closing her eyes, before becoming readily aware that someone was now sitting beside her. She opened her eyes slowly and almost swallowed herself, seeing who was nervously fidgeting beside her. Her master sat, looking at her uncomfortably, running a hand through his ginger hair which was brushed back and tame, no longer wild and messy, seeming as though he could find no words to say.

~x~x~x~

Ron and Harry both sat, accompanied by Ginny, by a large bowl of non-alcoholic punch, topping their goblets up as often as possible, looking lazily out over the dance floor as many girls fussed and giggled around them. One in particular, a dirty blond-hair girl who was giggling excitedly, repeatedly kept tugging at Ron's sleeve and demanding that they dance together, Harry and Ginny both having to stifle their giggles as her alarmingly large dress threatened to engulf him. They knew that Lavender Brown was not a girl who liked 'no' as an answer, especially not from a boy, and seemed also not to even understand the fundamental meaning of the word, or that of ignorance. Ron himself was becoming increasingly frustrated with the girl, aggravated with her incomprehension of his distaste, and her unawareness of his refusal to dance with her, or anyone else for that matter. "Lavender, please! Just stop! I don't wanna dance," He tried once more, attempting to reason with her eccentric personality, to calm her, to get rid of her if he could. A creek from the doors near them saw them swing open, and the small group turned towards the couple who had just entered. Ron's jaw practically hit the floor, seeing Viktor walk in, just as he had the previous year, an unexpected woman upon his arm.

"Who is that Harry?" Ron heard his sister whisper to his friend, slight excitement in her voice, a longing for knowledge about this new girl.

"Not a clue, Gin. She's gorgeous, whoever it is." Ginny huffed, clearly disgruntled with Harry's statement, and upset that he could say such a thing about a girl he had not met before, "Though I will say, she looks so familiar."

"Good job, Granger might give up on Vikky now and get back to scrubbing my floor." Ron said, a slightly twisted smile upon his face as he spoke, giving them both a cheeky grin. He looked back over to the now dancing couple, barely visible through the sea of people who crowded around them, and Ron had to admit, this girl was attractive. Very attractive. He watched her change dance partners, gliding swiftly around the floor, never faltering, never tripping, maintaining her composure and seemingly enjoying ever movement and ever step she took. Harry chuckled at him, and he looked around at his friend, "What?"

"Go ask her to dance you idiot."

"What?" Interrupted an erratic Lavender, who threw her arms around wildly and ragged her dress about herself, "No! If he won't dance with me, he's not dancing with anyone! That's unfair! I will not allow it!"

"Lavender! Will you piss off?" Ron shot at her, trying again to push her away, "I can't dance anyway mate, it's not something I do." He turned to Harry, looking down and solemn, disheartened by his lack of ability.

"No need mate. She's not dancing anymore." He nodded over towards the girl, who was now sat alone at a table by the double doors, lazily fanning her flushed face, watching couples waltz about the floor, graciously declining any further requests to dance as many more boys made their way towards her, asking for her hand.

"No! Ron! Please!" Lavender took his hand, trying to drag her with him, instead feeling herself being torn away as Harry clamped her arm, dragging her away,

"Come on Lav Lav! We've not danced together yet." He threw her in front of him, pushing her towards the floor, despite her protests and need to get back to Ron. The siblings watched them amusedly, chuckling slightly, before Ginny shot her brother a disapproving look,

"Well don't just sit there stupid!" He squinted his eyes at her, unsure of what she was referring to, "Go to her! Harry doesn't give out opportunities like this often idiot!" Ron flushed a little, but nodded, struggling to stand up. He began to walk towards her slowly, flopping down upon a chair beside her. He saw her flinch a little and then stare round at him, large eyes staring at him from under her small mask.

"Alright?" He asked, to which she gave him an amusingly blank look, leaving him unsure of whether he should continue to speak to her, whether she would scream at him in disgust, or even worse, scream at him as though she were a fan girl, another Lavender. "Err...do I know you like?" Again, she stared at him, clearly unable to speak even if she had wanted to, "Erm, is that a no then?" She stood suddenly, as thought electrocuted, and then began walking away from him, seemingly intent on finding another's company, and escaping his presence, perhaps back to one of her previous dance partners.

~x~x~x~

Hermione couldn't take it, she had to leave, get away from him, go to Viktor, now terrified that her Master would recognise her if he hadn't already done so. "W...wait!" She heard him call as his long fingers closed over her wrist tightly, pulling her back slightly and stopping her in her tracks. She turned her head back, and saw his eyes slide to her wrist, instantly releasing her, "Sorry! I...I just, you know, if you wanted to, I thought we could...maybe...we could dance?" Her head lifted slightly and studied him carefully. He was so different to what she knew, so gentle, so caring. Almost fragile. She saw his expression fall, almost accepting defeat, accepting that someone like her would not dance with someone like him, especially with his terrible dancing skills, or lack of them. Yet she smiled sweetly and moved a little closer to him,

'What am I doing?' Her brain questioned frantically as her arm stretched out and took his hand in her own, leading him back to the floor behind her. She slowly turned to face him and placed his hand upon her hip, pulling him slightly closer to her and placing her hands upon him, just as she had with Viktor. Yet this time, it was different, there was something else there, something that made her stomach flutter and knot uncomfortably. 'This is so forbidden, he'd murder me if he knew who I really was.' She thought sadly, noting the peaceful look that his eyes had adopted, sparkling slightly in the soft candlelight. Ron was however, very clumsy when it came to dancing, barely able to keep up with her graceful long learned movements, her own expertise only just covering his blundering arrangements. She gave a light giggle as he pulled her a little closer as he stumbled over his own feet, trying to keep himself upright.

"Sorry." He apologised once more, looking embarrassed and ashamed of himself, but she only smiled back at him. His face was so close to hers, barely inches away she could feel his breath upon her. Hermione could have easily leaned forwards into him and allowed them to touch one another, but instead she pulled away, looking to where her feet would be beneath her slim dress. Letting him go, she placed her hands together over the front of her dress and bent her head slightly, bowing to him, as she had always done in front of her Master. She looked up intent upon meeting his eyes directly, only to find him bowing back to her. Hermione almost choked upon the humid air encircling them both. Never in her wildest dreams had she ever thought that she would ever see her Master, her Ron, bowing to her, not when she had been forced to do so for him so often. To her, an understanding has passed between them, even though she felt obliged within herself to bow longer than he did for her. A hand extended towards her, lightly brushing her chin and guiding her head back up to face him, to stare into his eyes, as an equal. His hand moved to the side, taking a fallen strand of hair and tucking it up by her ear sending a warm feeling through her which shook her body unexpectedly. She pulled away a little, gasping in shock, unsure of what had happened or passed between them. He looked slightly alarmed at her movements, and as she shifted back forwards trying to communicate that he had indeed done nothing wrong, Viktor interrupted them, coming up behind her.

"Mistress," He held out a hand, waiting expectantly for her to take it. Hermione looked to a now furiously sulking Ron and then back to Viktor, "May I haff this dance?" She seemed to take a second, wondering whether to remain with her Master, or take the hand of the kind, caring and handsome man before her, who respected her whether he knew her Muggleborn or not. She hesitantly took his hand, though ultimately confident and now feeling safe, allowing herself to be lead away, giving her Master one last fleeting look as he made his way back towards Harry, a twisted look upon his face. Viktor lead her to the centre of the dance floor, pulling her into him, steadily beginning to dance once more, and continuing their earlier endeavours. He was refined and elegant in his movements, mirroring her perfectly, his body in unison with her own. Yet she put barely any effort into this dance, allowing her body to move with the music, before he stopped her before him rather abruptly, the music reaching its crescendo. Viktor leaned forwards and into her, capturing her lips with his own in a perfect, sweeping, fairytale kiss. She held it for a few seconds, her eyes fluttering open slightly, and meeting with his tightly closed ones. They wandered lazily slightly to the side of his head, spotting Ron who had recently come back to them, joined by both Harry and Ginny, staring shocked at the scene before him, hurt etched into his features. Hermione's eyes snapped open fully and she pushed Viktor from her, holding the back of her hand to her mouth, her face flushing scarlet. She began breathing heavily, panicking slightly, looking to a confused Viktor and then to her Master, not knowing what to do in herself.

"No..." She breathed, giving Viktor one last look before gathering her dress into one hand and bolting from him, pushing hurriedly between Ron and Harry, sprinting for the door and not looking back to any of them. Harry flew to the floor, suffering the brunt of her run, only able to watch, stunned, as she fled through the doors and out of their sight.

Hermione sprinted as fast as she could, despite the restrictions of her heels and dress, determined to run from the look upon her Master's face, to hide from that unknown person that had watched her with another man. She collapsed noisily down the stone staircase heading for the kitchens, waking several of the snoozing portraits around her as she did so, who began grumbling at her for her 'rudeness' and 'insolence'. Buckling against a large painting of a bowl of fruit she gentle touched the pear, watching it squirm and giggle and then transform itself into a green doorknob. She shakily took hold of it and pushed it wide open, slamming the door behind her and running down a short passageway towards the kitchens. The loud clattering of her heels sounded her imminent arrival, and as she arrived at the doorway, widening out into the large culinary room, she whipped of her mask and threw it to the floor, and allowed her shoes to fall from her feet as she stumbled over to a nearby table.

"Hermione?" Came the baffled voice of Kevin, who was sat comfortably sewing yet more of his Mistresses clothing upon a small stool near her. He placed his kit down carefully and stood to look at her tear stained face, her heaving chest and straggled hair. She gave a strangled cry and flew towards him, her body failing her slightly, causing him to have to catch her and fall to the floor together with her. "Hey, hey, what's wrong?" Her sobs began to soften slightly, "Is it that arse Ron again? Or that Krum?" At this she began to cry even more so at the mention of their names, yet in herself, completely unaware of the reason why her body flushed these pent-up emotions forward and out of her. "Hermione." His voice sounded impulsive and urgent, alarmed almost. She steadied her breathing as much as she could to look at him through the tear-filled eyes, gulping in as much air as she could.

"Yes?" She gurgled up at him,

"One of your earrings is missing."

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><p><em>Japan's Arc Angel x<em>


	8. Chapter Eight: Christmas

_Well I hope my last chapter was as good for you as it was for me :) and the reviews have been amazing! However, I'm wondering whether I'm doing enough. If, in any reviews, people could help me decide what I should do. I'm thinking maybe of doing an entire series, adapting this to fit the fifth year properly, then making separate stories to fit the other books, but still keeping my own plot. It would mean lowering the rating of this particular story and rewriting parts, which obviously would take time, though would give more to read. I'm currently unable to decide so any comments would be useful guys and thanks again! P.s Sorry for it being shorter than normal._

_Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes :P_

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Eight: Christmas<span>

"What?" Hermione whispered in shock, her eyes slipping from his uncomfortably. Her tears had stopped immediately, stained upon her cheeks, her body frozen stiff with fear, unable to even breathe,

"Your right earring. It's gone." Kevin said severely, disbelief shrouding his voice, icy and firm,

"No." She whispered, "No." She said, ever more defiantly, "Don't you dare...don't you dare tell me that!" She tried to push him away, not daring to believe him for a second, believing him lying, but he strongly took hold of her hand, pressing it firmly up to her ear. She held her breath tightly, failing to grasp the ornament that had hung there but a few hours earlier, now nonexistent and clearly lost. "Kevin...What do I do?" She stared at him fearfully; almost pleading for him to save her, make it better and all the hurt go away, turn back time and talk her out of ever attending the Christmas ball. He simply sighed heavily and put his head into his hands noisily, thinking deep and hard. After only a few moments he turned his face to her, his hands reaching up in her direction, fingers spread wide at her, palms bearing,

"How?" He asked her flatly, "This isn't even possible. Only a Master can release their slave. You know as well as I do that he wouldn't just let you go like that. He'd have had to have physically removed them for you, he just wouldn't." She looked up at him, a sudden realisation hitting her, dealing a heavy blow,

"He touched my ear." He looked to her quizzically, wondering how they could have possibly come into such close contact, undetected, "He didn't know who I was, at all, and he looked at me...differently. He tucked some of my hair away, I thought he was going to kiss me or something, but then there was Viktor, and he was hurt and...and...He must have knocked it..." Kevin stuttered slightly at this, barely able to believe her, finally spluttering out,

"W...what? Why was he so close? How could you let him...? No...no...forget it! You've got to get out of here! Run before they find out you're not where you're supposed to be!" He dragged Hermione abruptly and aggressively to her feet and began pulling her towards the open fireplace which was now flickering feebly, the embers barely glowing anymore as the night passed and the heat faded from the room. He felt little resistance from her, no confrontation from a seemingly shell shocked Hermione, until something deep within her suddenly snapped, madly and wildly, a profound, long dormant passion waking within her, a fire burning brightly as she groundlessly felt stronger than she has in years, a vehemence for her own soul and the defiance of others. She pulled her arm roughly from his limp grasp,

"No." He spun around looking alarmed, as if she had lost her mind completely,

"Don't be stupid. Who know what they'll do to you! You can't just be missing, especially if they make the link as to where you've just been." He looked at her as if she had punched him clean in the face without even caring, not even considering who he was to her or she to him,

"I said no. I have as much right to be here as any of them! I should have been at that ball, you too! We're all a part of this school, we all deserve everything that those other...those other...other 'bloods' get!" He could see her once crying face begin to anger at the mere suggestion of leaving, even just to go back to her dormitory, taking his words personally, almost as if he were sending her home for good, away from Hogwarts, despite how much he truly wished that she would,

"Hermione. Be rational. Merlin knows why you even stayed around this long with that git as your Master! Take the opportunity and leave for good! Pack your things and go completely. There's no need for you to stay here." He made a move to grab her again, attempted to push her into the hearth again, but she backed away from him, almost in shock that he dares suggest such a powerful and unforgiving notion,

"How can you say that? I stayed because it is my right! For Carla! For you and Justin! I was born with magic, I didn't steal it! I have earned the right to be here." She cried, then softened, thinking a little, considering her own emotions, "My wand was taken from me, snapped, destroyed forever! I can never get it back...but the magic within me is not yet dead, and I will not give it up! Not for them. Not for anyone. This is my magic and this is my school." She drew herself to her full height, trying to create a proud a form as she possibly could have, despite the steady trickle of tears that cascaded down her cheeks, collecting by her chin and splashing upon her crisp dress, darkening the white material considerably, giving a murky and unclean appearance to its innocent colouring. Claws suddenly extended from beneath the table that they were stood near, a considerably fish filled fattened Crookshanks rolling out from underneath, looking up at her lazily, before climbing upon his hind legs, leaning heavily upon Hermione's. She looked to him, seeing his eyes burning up at her, encouraging her not to give in or up upon herself. A determined look set into her eyes and she bent down to scoop him into her arms in one swift motion, holding him tightly to her chest as he placed his head upon her shoulder purring lightly, "I may be scared of the consequences, but I am going to find it, before anyone else does or realises it's gone. I will not be thrown from this school over one stupid earring." She walked past Kevin, not even looking at him as she headed for the small table and chairs, pulling the curtain around her as she went, "And I am staying right here! I may be a Mudblood, but my blood is purer than any of theirs."

~x~x~x~

The room was still, silence falling like a thick blanket over every student within the Great Hall, no one even daring to move in the slightest. It was only broken as a small, long ginger haired girl stepped forwards tentatively, removing her mask swiftly. Ginny knelt down beside a slightly dishevelled Harry, who still lay, stunned, flat upon his back, trying to sit up gingerly, only to continually stare to the floor before him. She slowly placed a caring hand upon his arm, "Harry?" He looked to her slightly dazed, blushing a little, embarrassed, "Are you alright?" He gave her a slow nod, allowing her to help him upright and to his feet from where he sat, wobbling a little as his knee jarred a little. She continued to hold onto his arm, perhaps not for support, holding on a little longer than she needed to, as they both turned to look at an amazed Ron. "Ron?...You okay?" Her voice quivered slightly, so unlike her normal loud and brassy self, sounding almost fearful of him. His face was etched in shock and anger, slowly rounding upon his counterpart, who stood empty armed and confused in the centre of the dance floor, staring at the space that his fair maiden had previously occupied. They could see the cogs inside Ron's brain whirring, a hasty decision formulating within his confused mind, before he fled after the mystery girl he had held within his arms for only minutes. Pushing past all those around him, he raced out into the Entrance Hall, swinging his head from side to side desperately, before turning left and charging up the large marble staircase and up to the first floor landing, where he debated whether to carry on up the grand staircase, or head down towards the dungeons and the kitchen. Yet here he could see no trace of her, his eyes urgently scanning his surroundings for a single trace of her, not wanting to give up upon finding her, talking to her. Something floaty swam temporarily into his line of vision, bounding up the staircase wildly above him, and he bolted after it without a second though. Viktor however, was not far behind him, having followed almost immediately, determined to make sure he reached Hermione first, choosing to descend from the first floor, knowing exactly where their maiden had run to.

As he entered the kitchen Viktor quickly scanned every surface for any signs of Hermione, or that she had even been there. Her shoes were thrown casually upon the floor, near where she had stood but a few moments previously, her mask thrown carelessly not much further away, as if she had little regard for anything that had been given to her. A harsh voice floated over to him from beside a large fireplace, blue flames steadily returning to their usual amber colour, which flicked lazily and licked at Kevin's heels, "What are you doing here?" He dangerously spat at Viktor,

"Ver is Hermy-own-ninny?" He demanded from the newly appeared boy as he bent to pick up the shoes and moved over for the mask, clutching them all tightly,

"You tell me what you did to her first!" Kevin made an unexpected move towards him, raising his fists in an almost threatening manner, "Besides, she doesn't want to see anyone, not now, you take that dress," He extended a hand to the garment which lay strewn over a small chair, Hermione having left it behind as she ran for the fireplace, back up to her Masters room clad in her normal Gryffindor dress, "And you go back to your own school." Krum gave him a dark smirk, obviously hoping that he would turn around and leave his school immediately and return to Durmstrang Institute without another word,

"She can have it. It vos a present." Viktor shrugged his shoulders, apparently oblivious to any anger within Kevin, seeing no problem with anything that had passed that night.

"Is that so?" Kevin took a step towards him, snatching the shoes and mask right from his hands greedily, "I'll definitely be taking these back then! She can have everything, and you? You can piss off!" He snapped, wanting not to even be in the same vicinity as his adversary. Viktor lifted his nose a little at Kevin, then turned his back upon him,

"I vill speak to er when she iz ready to talk avout our passionate kiss." He began making his way back over towards the entrance of the kitchens, heavily marching down the long corridor towards the exit. Kevin stood, rooted to the spot, stunned, then made an abrupt move forwards, standing at the entrance to the corridor,

"Kiss? What kiss?" He cried into the emptiness, despite Viktor having already departed.

~x~x~x~

Hermione sat, legs crossed loosely and back resting against her Master's bed, head slumped over her chest, an occasional tear slipping from her eyes and plopping onto her dress, the rest being wiped by an intermittent dab of her hand. Carla sat across from her, in a similar position, propped up against Master Dean's bed, unsure of how really to handle the current situation that she now found herself in. Many times she opened her mouth steadily, looking as though she were ready to say a wise and un-Carla-like comforting speech. Yet every time she fell silent, her lips pursed, eyes searching for support from anyone, from anywhere, in dire desperation. Yet she could not be aided without knowing exactly what was wrong, without having to speak. "Hermione?" She asked quietly and carefully, scooting forwards slightly and pulling her legs into her chest, her arms remaining tightly wrapped around them and chin resting upon her knees, "Tell me?" Her friend looked incredibly torn, not wanting to reveal what had happened in the last hour to anyone, almost regretting even saying a word to Kevin about the situation. Hermione took a huge breath, knowing that if she could trust Carla with the secret of attending the ball, this could also be kept, their five year friendship reassuring her that he problems needed to be shared,

"While I was there, I danced with so many people, even...even Master Ron. It was nice...he was nice...I've never known him like that before." She took a deep rattling breath, struggling to find the right words, again regretting even beginning a conversation, "But Viktor kissed me," Carla's face lit up in excitement, obviously thrilled with the outcome and incapable of even realising that there was an issue, "Oh, no no. I mean, yes, it was perfect. A slow dance, a careful embrace, he was very gentle. It was like a real life fairytale. But it just wasn't right, and I saw the hurt on Master's face...I felt so guilty." Carla looked extremely confused with her final statement, unable to comprehend Hermione's thought process,

"Guilty? Why would you possibly feel guilty? After everything he's done to you! How can-" Hermione cut across her hotly,

"There has to be a reason! Only the Slytherin's slaves are treated like I am, and those poor slaves of the rest of the Weasley family before they left. I know that the Gryffindors can be bad, but if they were so bad then they'd be in Slytherin! From how he treated me tonight, I can't possibly believe that the horrible boy he is towards me is really him." She breathed deeply, trying to regain her composure and unsure of whether to go on and reveal the crux of her story, "Plus, my earrings gone. He touched it, it fell out at some point, and I don't even know where it is." Carla put a shaking hand to her face, eyes closed in frustration, silent and still. As if she could not dare to believe it, she shuffled yet further forwards and steadily reached out a hand towards Hermione, keeping her eyes closed tightly. Barely inches from her friends hair, she paused, her hand becoming a twitching ball, not wanting to feel an absence, before slowly extending her fingers again, carefully lifting her hair upwards, squinting a peak at her friend. She gave a heavily groan and sat back quickly, seeing that nothing hung from her lobe,

"Hermione!" She shook her head viciously, annoyed at her stupidity, "What are you gonna do?"

"I have to find it obviously, and hide it from everyone for as long as I can." A roar of laughter sounded from behind them, signalling the return of their Masters. Panic flashed across their faces and Hermione bunched her hair hurriedly over her ear, fixing the bushy mangled mess tightly with an elastic band tied previously around her wrist. Carla dived to the side of Deans bed, pulling out various cleaning implements and throwing a wet cloth in Hermione's direction, pulling a bucket and a scrubbing brush with her, the both of them beginning to furiously scour the floor, creating as many bubbles as possible to give the impression that they had been working away for hours past. The door banged open; practically flying off of its hinges and into the wall, as Harry, Ron and Neville stumbled in, accompanied by a giggling Ginny.

~x~x~x~

"For Merlin's sake Ron! Will you walk straight?" His sister gave him a large whack about his back, causing him to tumble forward, only just managing to stay upright by his long legs as he fell through the door to their room.

"Oi! Give it a rest Gin." He rubbed where her hand had connected with him painfully, slightly annoyed by her aggressiveness, especially after being invited into their room in the first place,

"Yeah Ginevra!" Mocked Harry, "Ron's just in looove!" There came a sloshing crash as water began to spread across their floor rapidly, spreading out from a singular point like a ripple upon a small pond. They turned a Neville closed the door slowly, seeing Carla and Hermione huddled by the floor, cloths and brushes in their hands and horrified looks upon their faces. Hermione's hand was reaching out after the unturned bucket, its contents emptied, steadily seeping away. Her face fell as she received glares from both of the Weasley siblings and highly disapproving looks from their accompaniments.

"Wow, you have such a shit slave Ron." Scowled Ginny, to which he nodded frivolously, "You can definitely tell this one's a Mudblood." His face changed almost immediately, twisting into an ugly feature,

"I've told you before not to use that word!" He rounded on her heavily and she huffed in his face,

"It's just the truth." She said flatly, looking more disinterested than ever before,

"No," Said Harry coldly, surprising her slightly. She knew he disliked the use of the word, but saw no problem with it herself, instead thinking it an apt description of the girl before her, seeing no issues with naming her so. "It's just cruel. I think you ought to apologise." Ginny's face burned with embarrassment and the shame that Harry put upon her normally proud form, stuttering and barely able to form audible words, saved only as Ron intervened, glaring now instead at Harry for suggesting a member of his family apologise to a slave.

"No. She just won't say it again." He turned to look at Hermione, whose arm was still outstretched, but wore a slight smile for him, a grateful and almost knowing grin, "Clean it up then Granger!" Her face fell instantly and she hurriedly scuttled about the mess, soaking as much as she could into her cloth and her own dress, and then wringing it out back into the bucket, not caring about the cold material now sticking to her stomach and legs.

'This will take...forever...' She though dismally, looking over to Carla, whose head was down and as low as possible, still silently scrubbing energetically at the same spot as before, occasionally eyeing her and the steadily growing wet patches that were budding upon Hermione's clothing and threatening to wear a hole in the floor with her brush.

"She really was beautiful though," Hermione's ears pricked up at the sound of Ron's voice, the words overflowing from his lips and into her ears, "Really graceful, so sweet. Even Harry said she was gorgeous, and I thought only Cho Chang had your eye!"

"Oi!" Harry said sharply, sounding embarrassed at the mention of Cho's name. Hermione had seen her the previous year at the Triwizard Tournament, and knew that she was a truly beautiful girl. A Ravenclaw Halfblood, the young Chinese woman in the year above them had captivated Harry, who had thrown himself into a vicious love triangle with her and a now deceased Cedric Diggory. To Hermione, to be compared to such a girl was incredible, unimaginable and something that she would have never expected. She chanced a small glimpse at her Master, he was stood leaning against the foremost post of his bed, watching Neville intently who was sprawled on his own bed next to Ginny.

"Definitely Pureblood then," Ginny said, lazily playing with the hangings about Neville's bed, barely even thinking about her choice of vocabulary.

"Hey!" Chipped in Harry defensively, "Nothing wrong with being Halfblood." She reddened again, stumbling over herself,

"Oh no! No not at all!" She tried to smile sweetly at him, yet, being completely out of character, it appeared as more of a grimace, and she simply sighed, self conscious, putting her head into one of her hands and rubbing her eyes slightly.

"Do you know who she is?" Enquired Neville, looking over to Ron, who had flopped down upon his own bed, wanting to oblivious to the world and sink into his memories of the night.

"Like hell do I, never seen her before in my life. Besides, I'd have tons of competition, right?" The others nodded slowly, slightly disheartened, causing his face to almost shatter in discontent, upset that they did not even have the heart to lie to him out of pity. Hermione gave a sudden look over towards a gasping Carla, whose eyes were wide in astonishment, her jaw almost touching the floor. Hermione was mouthing to her to be quiet and to shut her mouth before she aroused any kinds of suspicion, or forced Hermione to put her soapy scrubbing cloth inside of her face. Harry cleared his throat loudly,

"Well, she may be closer than you think! Don't give up hope eh mate?" He walked over to his own bed, careful to tiptoe around the various patches of water that had yet to be mopped up, and sat upon it happily. Ron however, just snorted in his direction, clearly still wounded, "Come on! It's Christmas Day tomorrow! There'll be foooood!" Harry sang at him, earning an enormous grin from his gluttonous friend,

"Well, I do like food." Ron contemplated thoughtfully, his mood lifted again somewhat, "And if she is there at dinner, Krum will be with Granger, so he won't have a chance to try and snog her again in front of everyone! Not when he fancies the knickers off of this one!" He jerked his head in Hermione's direction, whose face spotted crimson considerably, earning a wide smirk from him,

"Viktor?" She dared to ask tentatively,

"Shut it Granger! It has nothing to do with you. Get moping!" He threw himself backwards onto his bed, happy within himself finally, "I'm going to get her! This girls mine."

~x~x~x~

Ron was sleeping soundly between his crisp white sheets, snoring loudly, oblivious to the morning that had begun around him, the birds chirping noisily by his window, the wisps of cool air beating softly against the pane. Hermione huffed lazily, sat watching him and waiting for her Master to awaken. Christmas morning was upon them, snow steadily trickling into the grounds outside, coating the castle into an ice palace. She smiled peacefully, watching the flakes hit the window and dissolve instantaneously, frosting up the glass. She used to love Christmas, joyfully playing in the cool snow, wrapped up in long scarves and woollen mittens her mother had lovingly created for her to wear. The girl who had lived a few doors down from her would come over and the two of them would play for hours creating snow angels and snowmen, giving them true features and pretending he was magical as they recreated The Snowman, intent upon watching the film later that day as her family and friends gathered for dinner. Yet even as they had matured, and the girl thought her too 'nerdy' to be associated with, the opening of presents, the decorations and overall joy that was brought to her through the spirit of Christmas never let her hopes fall. She giggled to herself a little, thinking forward to how she could shape her well imagined her future. She thought of taking her children out towards the ice rink, playing with them and helping to create the most magnificent snow sculptures, all the time accompanied by a loving husband who watched over them carefully. Yet for now, she knew that all she had was this. A present from her parents and perhaps from her few friends, knowing that she would have to babysit her Master for the entire day, unable to join in with the festivities. She had even had to buy her ungrateful Master a present, knowing that he would give her nothing in return and expect her to look after him for the day, waiting on him hand and foot. It made her feel sick, knowing what was coming, and as he stirred, she braced herself for the ferocious unwrapping of the large pile of presents that were currently stacked high at the bottom of his bed. Ron turned over groggily, groaning in his half asleep state, yet jolted suddenly, seeming to register exactly what day it was and immediately sitting bolt upright, "Harry!" He cried loudly, causing all the boys to wake disgruntled, not wanting to move from their warm, comfy beds, but suddenly extremely excited, attacking their own piles of perfectly wrapped boxes. Hermione looked over to a very bored looking Carla who gave her half of a smile and yawned widely. She shrugged and took up a small package next to her, beginning to open her own very small collection of gifts, ignoring Harry completely. Hermione looked to an obliviously energized Ron and held up a small parcel,

"Master?" She interrupted him, earning herself a dirty glare for interrupting his joy,

"Yes, yes! Open what you want!" He returned to the box of Zonko's Joke Shop treats, grinning madly from ear to ear, barely able to contain himself. Hermione gave a sudden excited look towards the long package, giving it a small shake before quickly beginning to open her parents' gift of a copy of Charles Darwin's Origin of Species, cradling it affectionately, catching Ron looking down at her strangely, trying to peer over her shoulder to read the title. She beamed, reluctantly to place it down, excited to begin reading it soon, and turning to a slightly larger package, she carefully read the miniature label. Carla, Justin and Kevin had put together to buy her a large baking set along with the shoes from the previous night, that she adored, smiling kindly at her friend and making a mental note to thank the others for their kindness when she saw them next. Her final present was inside a small white bag, caringly given to her by Viktor, also wrapped inside several boxes, which she recognised immediately, having stared at them through the shop windows for hours on end during summer shopping trips with her mother. She opened the largest of the boxes and pulled out a particularly costly silver Muggle bracelet, followed by its accompaniment of charms. She stared down in shock, knowing how expensive it must have been, especially after the dress he had already also purchased for her so lovingly.

"Oh Hermione!" Carla gasped in wonder, causing them all to turn and look at the bracelet she was holding up to inspect, "A Pandora! Who could have possibly afforded that?" The boys stared puzzled into silence at how such a small thing could cause such astonishment, until Harry spoke,

"A Muggle bracelet, they're very expensive aren't they? I've heard girls love those, hundreds of pounds for them, sometimes even thousands." Even he looked amazed at her receiving such a present, let alone any complementary ornaments,

"Pounds? Is that Muggle money?" Asked a slightly confused and still half asleep Neville

"Yes Master Neville, Master Harry! Extremely expensive! Even the silver ones! Who's it from Hermione?" Hermione blushed slightly, not wanting to divulge any kinds of information about it, trying to hide the present from them a little by shuffling the boxes and bag about noisily,

"V...Viktor." She half whispered, hoping they wouldn't take any notice of her or ask to hear her again. Yet she simply received a loud 'humph' from Ron who continued noisily unwrapping his own presents, attempting not to give the impression that he cared about such a present. Hermione smiled a little more, feeling less embarrassed, removing them all proudly from their boxes. She proceeded to attach the bracelet and its several charms to her wrist, gladly sitting back and now waiting for Ron to finish his unwrapping so that she could clear up quickly and be done with it.

"Oh...Her, Granger. Looks like there's something here for you." Harry said, a little awkwardly at first, throwing a small golden box at her, tied up with a small red ribbon. She looked curiously at it as it hit the floor about a foot in front of her, then to Harry, "It's not from me if that's what you're thinking." She shook her head rapidly,

"No, not at all Master Harry! I was just...thinking..." She chortled a little sheepishly, scratching her head lightly; unsure of what she was actually trying to articulate to him.

"Must have just got mixed up with mine. Stupid owls."Harry said plainly, continuing with the half opened pair of mouldy socks, seemingly from his mother's non magical side of the family. Hermione silently scolded herself for even allowing her brain to suggest that Master Harry would have purchased her something, despite them having spent the past five Christmas' together. Returning to the box, she lent forwards gingerly and clasped it tightly in her hands, bringing it back into herself and pushing her back against the cupboard by Ron's bedside. Cautiously taking it in her fingers, she placed it in her open palm, staring at it intently as she slowly removed the ribbon, looking around every few seconds, just to check that no one was watching her. Taking a small flap by the front to open it, she slowly lifted the lip, peering tentatively inside. She took out a small piece of paper that lay upon the top of whatever else was inside of the box, and read it carefully and quietly,

'I won't tell if you don't.' The handwriting was unknown to her, foreign and frightening. Having no clue as to what the box pertained, she barely felt able to open the lid again, the note putting her in a difficult situation, wanting and knowing that she had to open the box once more, but wanting to throw it away from her, never to see inside of it. Yet, knowing what she had to out of necessity, she delicately pulled open the top once more, her missing earring laying upon a small red, plump cushion, clearly polished to perfection. Her eyes widened suddenly and she snapped the box shut tight, pushing it into the folds of her dress along with the ribbon and not wanting to look at it anymore, almost wishing she had not received it and grateful that no one had asked about its contents, 'Somebody knows.'

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><p><em>Japan's Arc Angel x<em>


	9. Chapter Nine: Strange Beginnings

_Yet another chapter, sorry for the late chapter, university's been mad, and also, sorry if it's beginning to drag for some of you, but in honesty, its my story and there's nothing wrong with playing out the action a little. For those impatiently waiting for all to be uncovered sadly I can't do that, or the story would be over within the next two chapters. I'd like to play out Ron and Hermione's feelings over time, like they would naturally amongst people in their everyday life, but if you can't wait, I suggest you come back when the story is completed and just read the last few chapters. I've been dropping hints for the past eight chapters as to what's really going on, and I had hoped some of my readers would either pick these up or at least enjoy the suspense. However, I have finally planned the next 16 chapters which will take me to the end of their Fifth Year, the question is then do I continue? Or begin a new book for their Sixth year? I guess here's the chapter then :/ sorry again._

_P.s _**pearls-and-crystal-blues**, _you are simply divine, and here's another dedication for you :) I_ en__joy your reviews as much as I do writing the chapter.__

_Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes :P_

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><p><span>Chapter Nine: Strange Beginnings<span>

Hermione sighed heavily, lazily staring at her dribbling Master who was lolling idly upon his bed, giggling ludicrously to himself. She was extremely annoyed with him, upset for the day that she had missed, the opportunities that had passed her and the ridiculous amount of time she had spent looking after her Master when she could have easily spent the day with Viktor. He had sent her a letter the previous day, a small barn owl tapping noisily upon Ron's window, until her Master finally gave her permission to allow the creature in to deliver its load. He had carefully suggested a New Year's morning walk through the snowy grounds, followed by a warm mug of hot chocolate by a small fireplace within the Great Hall, a chance to mull things over together, make amends and become close once more. Only hours earlier she had skipped happily up to Gryffindor's boys dormitory to ready herself, glad of the excuse to fully talk about their previous kiss and excitedly changing from her ridiculous maids outfit and into her Hogwarts uniform, hastily pulling a large black fluffy coat around her shoulders and wrapping her head and neck up in the garments that she had received from Dobby, noting how warm she instantly became, a warm and loving feeling spreading through her. She ran hastily down the stairs, skipping a little as she draped her hands over the various walls, creating fluid movements with her entire body, feeling rather ephemeral and dizzy from excitement. Just as she had been about to step through the portrait hole, intent on making her way down to the Entrance Hall where Viktor would have been readily waiting for her, the occupants of the dormitory she had recently vacated entered noisily, bustling about heavily, followed by a rather disgruntled and thoroughly upset Carla who was half carrying, half dragging a lethargic Neville behind them. In the arms of the other five there were various dark coloured bottles of different shapes and sizes, the boys trying to desperately hide them, discretely placing their robes over them, creating large bulges beneath them, possibly creating a more obvious appearance. Ron had walked straight into her and began violently shoving her back up the stairs, and despite her loud protests, she had ended up stood by his bed for several hours afterwards as the boys had laughed and joked together, steadily becoming slightly drunk from the mountainous bottles of Mulled Wine that they had stolen from the Professors storage cupboard in the kitchens, the deep burgundy liquid they had cautiously smuggled into their room rather conspicuously. Loud snores could now be heard resonating from Neville, who had collapsed drastically upon his bed as soon as he had reached it, allowing, or perhaps being completely unaware that both Hermione and Carla had to tuck him in and close the hangings around him whilst placing a small bucket by his bed, just in case. All that now could now be seen of him was his hulking form from beneath his covers, his chest rising and falling with every dragging breath he took, sleeping deeply, not rousing from his sleep once. Hermione looked over towards Carla who simply stared back at her deeply not amused, and then looked to Ron, who was sat behind Hermione upon his own bed, his feet dangling over the edge and busily flicking Hermione's hair from side to side, taking no notice of his slave's obviously blank and mirthless expression. He gave a long vociferous belch and she turned slowly around to throw him a truly disgusted look and huff loudly at him. "If he's sick," Hermione turned back to Carla and threw her thumb back over her shoulder at her Master, "He's sitting in it. I am NOT...cleaning it up." She stated repulsed, Carla nodding back at her sombrely.

"Wassat 'Mione?" Ron half shouted at her, trying to roll himself over a little more to look at her properly. Turning back around to face him, she tried to smile, though only managed a slight grimace, she took a huge ragged breath,

"Nothing Sir." She groaned a little, "Do carry on." He continued to look at her lazily, a sloppy smile plastered over his face as his head rolled from side to side,

"Yooou." He pointed at her and then to the floor behind her, directly by his bed, "Ssshhit down. Sssit here. Noow." Her face contorted slightly and she gave Carla a fleetingly confused look, before shuffling backwards slightly and sitting where he had pointed, sulking up at him, lip twitching slightly.

'What a day this turned out to be,' She thought rather sourly, 'Stuck indoors with this git. Bloody typical.' Somehow Ron had always managed to do this to her, to make her feel miserable when she should have been celebrating. Every year she was confined to that small space with all of the inhabitants of the room, and their servants, waiting upon them all as if she had actually been born for the sole intent of giving them a good time and a comfortable life. Although alcohol had never before come into any of the arrangements, something had always occurred that destroyed her Christmas and New Years, something that put a downer upon a supposedly happy moment in her life. She still shuddered at the thought of her last winter at Hogwarts, finding herself performing party acrobatics as she was sent to the bottom of Gryffindor Tower and asked to scale it from the outside, only being allowed back in upon reaching their window. Normally, only the cold and wind would have hindered herself and Carla, yet the bombardment of trick spells shot down at them stalled their ascent greatly, terrifying them, despite the appearance of a cushioning charm beneath them, should they fall. A sudden bark from Harry caused Hermione to look up from the floor and peer over her Masters bed, seeing Carla stood by her own Master looking rather irritated,

"Oi! Carla! I require pie!" She looked at him uncomprehendingly, her mouth open slightly,

"Pie?" She questioned, an eyebrow raised slightly, knowing that there had to be more to this sudden request,

"Yes. Pie." She looked over to Hermione, eyes squinted slightly, a little unsure of whether to adhere to this request without pushing him for further information first,

"Did you hear me not? Pie damn it woman! I demand pie!" He suddenly sat up in his bed, swaying only ever so slightly, looking as though he were ready to pounce upon her for not delivering instantly. She appeared slightly taken aback but Hermione simply shrugged at her, silently suggesting it would be best for her just to comply and ask questions later. Carla sighed exasperatedly and then began to make her way towards the heater, opening the lid nonchalantly, about to climb inside, before she was interrupted midway through her departure, legs dangling inside, "Don't forget to hand make it!" She stopped and turned slowly to face him, disbelief plastered over her face, looking as though he had just shot her in the back,

"You want me to make you...a buggering pie?" Her mouth was gaping and wide in utter incredulity, hoping he would possibly revise his clearly preposterous decision,

"Of bloody course! Get moving!" She gave him a small snort and then begrudgingly disappeared from view, pulling the lid closed with a bang behind her. Silence fell over them momentarily before Harry spoke once more, this time directing himself to Hermione who was still peering at him, "Does it take long to make a pie?" Hermione nodded slowly in his direction,

"It's Carla...Making a pie is like trying to put raindrops back into a cloud..." She said cautiously, seeing his face fall dramatically but then rise again manically, a small twinkle in his eyes,

"Hey! Heey! Ron! Come here!" She watched her Master fumble over to him, look back to her, and then come back and take her wrist harshly, his fingers and nails digging into her skin, almost as if he did not even realise the pain he was causing her whilst he forcefully dragged her with him. Dropping her by Harry's bed, she sat rubbing her painful wrists as he pushed his face fully into hers,

"You siiit here. Don't listen. Got it 'Mionioneeee?" She nodded, not bothering to point out that she would still be able to hear clearly enough if he stupidly demanded her to sit in such a place. Yet still, exasperatedly, she tried to ignore their conversation, despite how interesting it sounded to her ears. She could barely resist as the two unveiled more about the magical world than she was ever supposed to know, spilling out information that could link all of the snippets of information that she had collected over the previous years of being in their company, her ears pricking with every word that they spoke.

"The Order won't tell us aaanything, only Sirius is even bothered 'bout me! How are we supposed to fight Voldymorty if we can't even go anywhere? We don't know...anything?" Harry yawned widely, the alcohol wearing off a little with the severity of their conversation, but still leaving him slightly giddy,

"You knooow...what mum is like-" Ron gave a small hiccup, "Harry. Number twelve's soooo secret! After the hearing with the Wizengamot over the...the floaty...Dementor type...things, security's gone up! They're not telling anyone anything! Not even us! No no no." Hermione's brow furrowed in heavy confusion,

'Wizengamot? Dementors? What the hell's been going on?' She closed her eyes, almost pretending to be oblivious to them both whilst slyly shifting closer and craning her neck towards them. She knew that the wizarding world held its own for of parliament and high court of law, but could not possibly fathom as to why either Harry or Ron would need to be in the presence of a Wizengamot, especially not due to an incident with Dementors. 'They're meant to be under the control of the Ministry of Magic...why would they be after those two?' She could not have been more confused as she sat there, barely able to continue listening to them as he brain whirred, incapable of understanding or making sense of the information that had been presented to her.

"They're out to get you Harry!"

"Don't I bloody know it? He'll kill me if he can." Hermione shuddered a little, particularly as the two boys gave a small chuckling snort. She had heard about things of this nature, many years ago, barely having been at Hogwarts a year. She had followed Harry and Ron as they had made their way to the third floor of the castle, careful as possible, trying not to get caught out of bed at such hours. This was when she had discovered that Harry had possessed a cloak of invisibility, watching them creep from their dormitory, perform a full body binding curse upon Neville who had tried to stop them losing Gryffindor any house points and then disappear beneath it. She had struggled horrendously, Hermione now understanding the true extent of the mysteriously cloak of silvery fluid-like material that Harry had received the previous Christmas from an unknown sender, only managing to keep up with them by taking note of their bumbling behaviour and prior knowledge that the third floor was out of bounds. They had entered a small door on the corridor and she had barely concealed her astonishment as a large hulking beast had stood before her, dark as night and baring three heads, a great dog stood before them all, baring its great teeth. All she could think in that moment was back to her time reading about Greek mythology the previous year, reciting the name of Cerberus through her mind repeatedly. She had shrieked, straining her voice and attracting the attention of all five heads in the room, before Ron had dived, silencing her whilst she struggled wildly, watching as Harry played a small tune upon a wooden flute he had received from the Hogwarts gamekeeper, Rubeus Hagrid. Almost instantaneously, the dog's six lids had begun to droop and as it fell to the floor, slumping lazily into a dazed dream, the three of them breathed a sigh of relief, Ron still holding his arms tightly around Hermione, a hand clamped over her mouth.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Ron had madly whispered at her, not waiting for an answer and dragging her forward towards a trapdoor by the dog's paws and pushing her inside after Harry, ignoring any of her demands and protests. She had landed with a soft flump upon yielding and squashy matter, which suddenly sprang to life, twisting tendrils that wrapped quickly around them, squeezing and suffocating. She had frozen with fear as the boys struggled, suddenly becoming aware of what was attempting to kill them, and allowed herself to be dragged through the plant and thrown to the floor beneath it.

"Stop struggling!" She had screamed up at them, recalling what she had learnt, breaking the rules and having read a library book in an attempt to aid her Master, "Remember the Herbology homework I helped you with last time! It's Devil's Snare! It likes the dark and the damp!" Seeming to have been listening to her intently, Harry had suddenly fallen through next to her, landing awkwardly but scuttling to his feet regardless.

"Light a fire?" He looked to her questioningly optimistic, hoping beyond all hope that she had paid more attention to his homework than he had, regardless of her not being allowed to even have knowledge of it.

"But...there's no wood!" Hermione's brain had suddenly left her, so used to being unable to use magic regardless of being within the school grounds, temporarily oblivious to Harry's status as Carla's Master. He had stared at her silently as if she were backwards, ignoring Ron's constant shrieks of terror from above them, lifting his wand at her in one hand and pointing to it with the other. Having successfully freed their remaining companion, they moved through the adjacent corridor, past an unconscious troll and into a room full of winged keys, flying lazily about the room. Hermione had watched in awe as the boys had mounted broomsticks and chased an old battered key manically, the rest of them now flying hectically in their direction trying to protect said key, eventually capturing it and allowing them access to a room filled with a large chessboard. "Wizard's chess?" She had looked fearfully towards them as she was pushed onto a life sized empty square to take the place of a Rook that had hobbled towards the side of the board intent on watching the unfolding match, listening to Ron bark orders at them.

"Granger! Move where I tell you!" He had waited expectantly for her to take three paces forwards, beginning their game, but she had not moved, standing defiant, shaking slightly.

"No. You tell me right now exactly what's going on!" She had screamed at him, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, her emotion raging at him.

"Look! We can't tell you!" Ron had shouted back from atop a horse, occupying the place of a Knight, seemingly a fitting place for him to be in his own mind.

"Wait," Interrupted Harry, a torn look upon his face, not knowing how to phrase his next words, "Hermione. We can't tell you much; just we have to do this. Please. You've got to trust us." She had looked at him, seeing the sincerity, seeing who Harry truly was, the man beneath the boy, feeling within herself obliged to do as he asked of her, not wanting to disappoint him or let Carla's Master down, feeling a strong bond being made between them in that instant.

"Just get it done Granger!" Ron had spat at her, destroying the atmosphere his friend had created, forcing her to further move across the board. Yet it had soon become all too apparent, even to her as an inexperienced chess player, as to what was happening, with her Master soon falling at the hands of the White Queen. She had had a desperate urge to run to him, shrieking his name as his body fell to the floor, limp and lifeless, yet Harry had had to end their match, checking the King and then dragging her forward towards the next chamber, leaving her Master behind, where they were confronted by several bottles of varying sizes each with differing contents and a note beside them.

"This...this isn't magic. This is logic." She had proclaimed, reading the contents of the note, "Three are wine, two are poison, one takes you forwards, one takes you back." She had turned to find him staring at her, encouraging her to continue, to indicate the one that he would need. She had bent over the parchment for a few more seconds, definitely and successfully deciphered the contents rapidly. It had been the one of only times she had consumed a potion, the other in her second year, to take her back through a set of blue flames and towards Ron, to recover and drag him towards Professor McGonagall's office so that Professor Dumbledore could be alerted immediately. She found out after about Lord Voldemort, the so called 'You Know Who', and how he was out to return to power and kill Harry along the way, to take over the magical world, pushing the ideas of the Pureblood. Though the details were sketchy, Hermione was able to piece together random snippets of information and retain that it was important he did not do so and was stopped at all costs. And now here she was, listening to the boys talk about being placed upon trial, for a full Wizengamot no less, which could have easily had Harry removed from Hogwarts. And involving Dementors, Hermione could barely believe it. Though they had been about the castle during their third year instead of guarding the wizarding prison, Azkaban, they had been there for a reason, to protect the school for a supposed at large wizarding and Muggle criminal, though it was later revealed to them that Sirius Black had indeed been innocent. She waited patiently, listening once more to her Master and his friend, wanting to know more about their summer activities, know what threat was out there, and know why she was forced into slavery.

"We have to do something you know," Harry said, seeming more sober and now tired from the days festivities, "My scar; it's been hurting so much more lately." He whined at Ron, who shook it off lightly,

"Harry! Mate...it'll be all good!" He yawned, causing Harry to do the same, and to extend a foot at him shoving him lightly off of his bed. Carla having not yet returned, Harry crawled to the edges of his bed and began pulling his hangings about him, giving Ron a small wave before collapsing back into his sheets. This sudden movement disturbed Hermione's trance like state, and she realised that she was sat staring up at her Master, not having noticed that everyone else had retired to their beds, Ron starting to make his way towards his own busily pulling on his dressing gown over his clothes, not bothering to remove any of the garments. He collapsed upon his bed, the only one needing his hangings drawing for him, ready to sleep, and as he lay upon his bed, kicking off his socks, he coughed purposefully, not even looking over to her. She ran forwards and drew them carefully, trying not to disturb anyone else with their scraping, ending up inside with him.

"Good night Master Ron." She sighed, pulling back the drapes, ready to leave him to himself; she was dragged back suddenly onto the bed with him. He had wormed his way under the covers, lying beneath them, comfortable as he could be, his arms now out and wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her from behind as she lay next to him awkwardly. "M-Master?" She tried to release his grip, peeling back his fingers, but he only held on tighter, placing his head in the crook of her neck and breathing deeply, pulling her head back up onto his pillow. She began to panic slightly, unsure of what to do, how to escape from him and avoid punishment the following morning. Yet a casual waft of Mulled Wine reminded her of the likely reason as to why he was doing this, the act that could never normally occur, the side of him that she had only ever seen when she had hid her identity from his at the ball. She sighed, a slight unknown disappointment falling over her as she settled herself comfily for the hours of darkness that were yet to come.

"Night 'Mione."

~x~x~x~

Hermione's eyes fluttered lightly open, feeling a small, warm pressure upon her tightly closed lips. She came face to face with her Master, his lips pushed against hers, gently placing small, slow kisses upon her. She was barely able to think straight, unsure if she was having an erratic dream or had woken from one, to find herself in a true reality, she sleepily responded to his touch as he pulled away from her slightly, pushing her lips back into his and sliding her hand up his arm to his chin, ignoring his twitches from her unexpected response. Only small kisses passed between them, as he pulled her in closer, as if asking for more from her, wanting more from her. Yet her brain suddenly awakened, cold harsh actuality breaking through and she snapping her back into reality, causing her to harshly push him away. Staring wide eyed at him, she watched as his faced opened wide, yawning, and then turned over, evidently returning to his sleep, not aware of what he had just done. Her heart sunk; the feeling of him still evident upon her lips, the knowledge that in reality, her Master had not meant to kiss her, he would have kissed anyone who had been lying next to him in that moment. "Oh shit..." Yet, as her Master seemed not to care, more intent on sleeping that paying her anymore attention, she could not help but compare his kiss to Victors. The young Bulgarian was charming and sweet; want to give her passion filled kisses, to convey all of his emotion for her in a single moment. Yet her Master was different, a dangerous kiss, a forbidden union, even if he would have no knowledge of that instant. "I could have been anyone." She muttered, almost sourly, a bitterness resonating through her voice, "Bastard...not even bothered...probably too pissed to even know...arse..." She huffed heavily and swung her legs over the end of the bed, glaring at the floor for what only seemed like moments before jumping off and pushing her way out of the drapes and over to where she usually sat, intent on waiting for morning in her own miserable way. Yet a sudden cry from Harry's bed bought a large crash about the room, and her head shot up, looking desperately around the side of her Masters bed, only to find Harry sat on top of a squirming Carla, who was flailing about, wrapped in several sheets of bedding as well as her own clothing, not able to escape for Harry's weight.

"Ron!" Shouted Harry, stirring the rest of the room from their slumbers, heavy groans escaping their lips at the unwanted awakening. Ron's shadow could be seen as he shot up, his head moving about wildly before he flashed his head out into the open, pushing the drapes back hurriedly. "Your dad! It's your dad! He's been attacked!" Harry screamed at him, not caring about the scene he was creating, only wanting to alert Ron to the danger.

"What?" Ron looked at him ludicrously, as if he had awoken into some kind of nightmare world, "Harry...how can you possibly know that?" His words were still slightly slurred, though any alcohol seemed to have majorly worn off, the severity of the situation suddenly dawning upon him, despite his confusion.

"I...I saw! I had a vision!" Harry had stood up and detangled himself from his servant and had then dragged her up beside him, not caring for her dishevelled form, only that the circumstances were imminently urgent. "We have to go to Dumbledore! McGonagall! Anyone! He's really hurt Ron! I'm not pissing you about!" He began to drag Carla towards the door, not caring that he was only in his underwear, not caring if Ron followed or not, desperate to get to some form of authority and get his friends father the assistance that he required immediately. Ron looked to over Hermione, slow, confused and unable to decide exactly what to do,

"Well. Get moving!" She threw a large woollen jumper in his direction and then pulled herself up from the floor and made for the ajar door herself, pulling it open wide and standing by it, waiting for him to follow her. As he slowly made his way towards her, she gave him an almighty shove and together, they both raced after Harry who was now feverishly gibbering away to an emerald green robed Professor McGonagall upon the sixth floor landing, a confused Carla currently being interrogated by the resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower, Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, also known to them as Nearly Headless Nick, who was Pearly white and semitransparent and was busily stroking his beard and moustache, wiggling his thick eyebrows with every question he posed to the young terrified Muggleborn, busily arranging his usual doublet and particularly large ruff which was ensuring that his head did not wobble too much as he spoke. Both Ron and Hermione exited the common room and descended the flight of stairs hurriedly towards the small group, McGonagall giving them all a small, short grave nod, speaking lowly

"The Headmaster's office, now." She nodded towards the group, beckoning them to follow her down the staircase, throwing he head back behind her, "Sir Porpington, to the tower, watch over the students."

As they reached the third floor, they strode down a long corridor, arriving at a stone gargoyle who demanded the password from them in a low growling, gravelly voice, "Fizzing Whizzbees." Stated McGonagall swiftly, to which it hopped aside obediently, revealing a large opening, a staircase now available to them. "Up you go, Professor Dumbledore will be waiting for you. I'll bring your sister and brothers up immediately." With that, she left them to step upon the now moving stone staircase that carried them upwards in a spiralling motion, giving Hermione a sickening feeling within the pit of her stomach, though she was unsure if it was from the movements or in light of what had recently occurred. As they reached the top of the tower, they stepped onto the open landing faced with a large solid oak door which Harry pushed open and all four of them walked into a large circular room with many windows and occupied by dozens of portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses. The office had also played host to a number of spindly tables upon which were set delicate looking silver instruments that whirred and emitted small puffs of smoke, as well as an incredible collection of books, which made up Dumbledore's private library, his Pensieve, and Fawkes the Phoenix, who sat perched high above a golden armchair in which the Headmaster himself currently sat adorning a pointy wizard's cap, long majestic robes, stroking his lengthy silver untethered beard.

"Harry, Ron, Miss Granger, Miss Whittacker." He nodded to them in turn, his glittering blue eyes peering at them over the rim of his half moon spectacles. "Professor McGonagall informs me that Arthur Weasley has been injured and you were witness to this."

"The snake professor! Voldemort's snake! It's attacked him, in the Department of Mysteries!" Dumbledore stared at him intently, almost as if he could not decide whether to scold Harry, or to laugh at him, and then turned to a portrait with short, black bangs behind him that had been listening intently. "Professor Everard, to your portrait in the Ministry, make sure he's found by the right people." He then turned to another, a clever looking wizard, with black hair, dark eyes, a pointed beard and thin eyebrows, who was pretending to be asleep, one eyes slightly open and observing. He was depicted as wearing the green and silver colours associated with Slytherin House, "Professor Phineas Nigellus Black," He addressed the portrait directly, who opened his eyes quickly and looked at Dumbledore expectantly and eagerly, "Grimmauld Place, alert the Order." Both people vanished from their portraits, walking into their frames and disappearing, and Dumbledore turned back to face them. "You should all go there; you'll be met by Sirius." The door behind them opened and in walked Ginny, Fred and George, looking tired, horrified, followed by a dishevelled McGonagall who was busily rearranging her large point hat and squared spectacles awkwardly. Walking from behind his desk, Dumbledore produced a small blackened kettle, taking it down from a cabinet full of various seemingly useless items, along with two long pieces of cloth. "My apologies." He said kindly to the two confused Muggleborns, hoping that they would understand as they watched, terrified as their Masters took the cloths and wrapped them around their eyes, blocking their vision. All Hermione could think was that she had to trust her headmaster, knowing that hecould always find something to value in anyone, however apparently insignificant or wretched, with the great humanity and sympathy that he possessed. She felt Ron take both of her hands in his, placing one upon the kettle along with his own and several others, keeping the other in his own, squeezing tightly. "Portus." Came Dumbledore's calm and controlled voice, and a sudden sharp twitch took over her, feeling like a hook had been attached somewhere behind her navel, pulling her towards another unknown location.

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><p><em>Japan's Arc Angel x<em>


	10. Chapter Ten: The Burrow

_Many apologies all! The holidays have been MAD, but I hope that this chapter will suffice instead. Now I'm back off to university I'll have more time to edit and post my other chapters! Thanks again for reading and enjoy :) More reviews = more motivation for chapters :P So keep em coming! I love reading them all!_

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed, especially **pearls-and-crystal-blues**, **Harrypotterpixie455**, **LittleRed22**, **fatty73**, **heronlove**, **forbiddenluv**, **susieQ41**, **berosey** and **LillyMay77 **and to all my other faiththful readers and reviewers!_

_As a P.S! Opinions please? I've been working on some accompanying art, much of which isn't overly attractive I must admit, but would a link to each chapters art be worth it or indeed appropriate? I did receive an e-mail from a fellow fanfiction writer stating that I should take some of my content down as it wasn't a strict story and 'against the rules of the website' which has put me off the idea immensely. Anyone?_

__Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes :P__

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><p><span>Chapter Ten: The Burrow<span>

Hermione was thrown suddenly down upon a very cold and very wet, almost marshy surface, a queasy and slightly sickening feeling rising from the pit of her stomach. Her head throbbed and she felt extremely disorientated, finding it enormously difficult to even attempt to stand, her hand still tightly clasped in her Masters was released and she was left to herself. "Get up." Came Ron's voice, sounding a little quivery himself, almost as if he had thrown up surreptitiously whilst she could not see him. She bent forwards slightly and pushed herself upwards, feeling Carla's delicate hand at her elbow, another by head, steadily untying the cloth that was currently obstructing her view. The two of them shook slightly, unsure of what to do next, only able to see the shadows of the Weasley family and Harry stood in closer proximity to them. Before they could enquire as to what they were supposed to do, both were pushed forward roughly, causing them to stumble, dragging their wet bodies as quickly as they could. There was little change to their newly open vision, the moon barely illuminating the hazily murky shapes before them, hiding in the mystique of the darkness. As the group moved forwards they stumbled cautiously through tall rushes and thin wisp like reeds, their feet squelching steadily beneath them, breaking through the silence, only accompanied by the nightly wind, the breeze whipping up and the shadowed light calling to them through the evening air.

"What happened to Grimmauld Place?" Harry cut through, asking Ron cautiously,

"No idea. Mum'll know, come on." Came a confused reply, hoarse and rasping, his breath billowing out in great plumes as he spoke. Carla pulled Hermione into her slyly, lowering her voice drastically and whispering,

"'Mione. Where are we?" Seemingly however, she had not spoken low enough as Ginny unexpectedly snapped and rounded on them suddenly, glaring tearfully, looking as though she was barely able to contain herself,

"Devon! That's all you need to know. Now shut up! The both of you! Get moving!" She was shaking slightly, looking as though she was about to dive for Carla and throttle her to death, but instead hastily turned on her heels and began half running away from them, out towards a tall shadow that was looming in the distance.

"We call it The Burrow. My home." Ron said flatly, feeling that they at least should be granted that knowledge, emotionlessly staring after his sister as she disappeared into the darkness and then back towards the two girls, "Get moving!" Hermione nodded hurriedly, and then made a move after Ginny, dragging Carla behind her as quickly as she could, not wanting to anger her Master in his unstable state of mind. Slowly, light began to illuminate their surroundings as they neared the large shadow, revealing a tall wonkily erected building. It was as they neared and the light from the almost shabby-looking house grew brighter, Hermione realised that they were walking through a large cornfield which was filled with various small ponds and swamps that had drenched their clothing causing their movements to be limited. Just to her right, beside the field, she could identify lines of high trees, a possible orchard contained within a sizable paddock which Hermione mused over, possibly a summer haven when the rays hit it in the height of the year. She had often heard Harry and Ron talk of this place, The Burrow, when they had assumed her not listening to them, assumed her oblivious to their trivial conversations. Her had always Master lived here, as had all six of his siblings and his parents, an old converted shack that had clearly not originally been built for such a large family. Master Harry had stayed here too, many times to enjoy the company of the Weasley family, to be joined to their family where his own had failed him. Hermione knew that Harry's real parents had been murdered when he was but a year old by the dark wizard Lord Voldemort, and had since been placed in the care of his Muggleborn mothers sister's non magical family, who had consequently made his life a misery, because of their pure hatred of magic. It was easy enough to see exactly why Carla's Masters family had despised magic so, now knowing herself the true extent of the evil that could be born into the magical world, and why Harry would want to move into the goodness that Hermione remembered as Ron's own mother. Now here she was too, somewhere in an area of the country she had never before stepped foot in, sodden and in the dark of the night, not knowing what she should expect, or if the family would be any different at home to how they were at Hogwarts. They were now close enough to the structure for her to see the house in more detail, looking to all of the several crooked stories attached to the main construction in various positions. Four or five chimneys dotted the roof of the house indicating that several of the rooms pertained fireplaces, Hermione presuming that the entire building was most likely held up by magic due to its infinitely crazy construction. Crossing the front of the house, a small yard that held a garage and a chicken coop, which obviously contained various sleeping feather animals, there was a small sign in the ground reading 'The Burrow' and as they wondered past and towards various hills they came to the far back end of the house, which was elucidated more so that the front, possibly indicating its more prominent usage. Here, only a small stone outhouse lay in the overgrown garden accompanied by a pond full of croaking frogs and unknown scuttling creatures that were busily running about in the dark. She felt Carla flinch a little beside her as she spotted these mysterious beings and moved in closer to Hermione, seeming a little frightened of these unidentified life forms.

"Ronald?" Came a somewhat soft and slightly worried voice, from a small door into the house which was surrounded by various wellington boots and an assortment of old cauldrons. A vague ghost of Hermione's past was stood looking at them, Ginny by her side, the youthful version of the woman next to her. "Oh Harry!" Molly held out her arms to embrace her son, who came forward with Harry and the other Weasley siblings, who all accepting hugs gratefully from the caring woman. "Oh?" She spotted Hermione and Carla out of the corner of her eye, who were hiding sheepishly at the back of the group, unsure of whether to move forwards and towards the house or to remain outside as the matter was dealt with by those it affected directly. Molly's eyebrows knitted together, thinking hard, seemingly looking back into her past after locking on to such a familiar face. Her eyes widened slightly and then opened her mouth a couple of times before she uncertainly asked, "Hermione?" The girl before her gave a slight nod to which Molly reciprocated with a large one, and then turned to Carla, who stood even further back, hiding cautiously behind Hermione, "And...?"

"Carla. She's..." Began Harry, feeling slightly embarrassed, struggling to find the appropriate words and apparently unable to complete his sentence adequately. "Well, she's..." Carla shifted nervously, not really wanting to aid her Master, now standing in line with Hermione, "My..."

"Slave. Skivvy. Servant. That's what she is!" Came Ginny, breaking through loudly, scowling at them slightly, "And her! That Granger girl, she's Ron's. What an unfortunate family we must be!" Hermione twitched slightly at her snide comments, resisting the overwhelming urge to throw her shoe at the young girl,

'Who does she bloody think she is?' She took a hold of Carla's arm and pulled her half behind her again, almost daring herself to glare at the youngest Weasley child, daring herself to lash out in the defence of her friend's dignity.

"Ginevra, this is not the time." Said Molly, appearing very uncomfortable at her daughters shameful outburst, "Come on everyone, inside now. You need to rest before we go and see your father tomorrow." She began to make her way back into the house, ushering a reluctant and still scowling Ginny as she went.

"Wait, Mum, why are we here? We were supposed to go to Grimmauld Place." Ron asked her hurriedly, catching her hand before she fully entered. She nodded gravely, eyes closed, not even turning to look at them as she spoke,

"I know. I received an owl, you're all needed here for tomorrow, and we'll be leaving for Sirius's tomorrow night." She drew a great gasping breath opening her eyes once more, "Come on now, inside." She instead now stood away from the door, dragging her daughter with her, and allowing the house to open to them. All stepped inside one after the other, Hermione and Carla cautiously stepping over the threshold, holding hands tightly. The interior of The Burrow was cosy and looked obviously well lived in, with a jumbled and cluttered array of furniture and trappings crowding the kitchen that they had entered. There was a large wooden table with room enough for eight chairs and a large fireplace similar to the one they had used to transport themselves to and from the Hogwarts kitchens and the boy's dormitory. A clock engraved with various times such as "You're late" and "Time to feed the chickens" was hung high upon the wall above the sink by the kitchen window, along with a ancient Great Grey Owl whom Hermione immediately recognised as Errol, her Master's family's owl that slightly resembled a moulting feather duster, to which she recalled him often hitting various objects during flight due to his depleted eyesight. Alongside him was a much smaller White-Faced Scops Owl named Pigwidgeon who usually had a hyperactive tendency towards the delivery of mail on behalf of Ron, though sometimes delayed the transaction through his constant need of showing off to the servants of the school. Both owls now dozed lazily by a mountain of unwashed dishes and various other crockery, Hermione giggling at Errol, supposing him glad of the rest from the annoyance of his counterpart. The group of teens continued forward, winding around the various kitchen implements, passing a small open door leading to a scullery containing only an old and obviously well used mangle. They entered a large living room filled mainly with a sofa and a huge armchair, seemingly cosy and warmed by the great fireplace by it. A wooden wireless set draped over a large chest of draws faced yet another clock that, rather than telling the time, indicated the status of each member of the Weasley family. Instead of numbers, there were various phrases such as "home," "school," and "work," along with nine hands, indicating where each was at any one time. Coming to a large winding staircase, Mrs Weasley took her daughter into her arms and turned to them all, "Come on now, all of you. Off to bed. We've got an early start for daddy tomorrow." She tried to smile, yet was barely able to even lift the corners of her lips, obviously strained and torn. Ron moved forwards and took Ginny from his mother, walking up a short flight and opening a door to their right and allowing her to enter, saying something in audible to Hermione and then closing it behind her. All followed as Ron proceeded to the second floor, where Fred and George departed to a single room, another room remaining untouched. Hermione knew from overhearing several times from her master that there were three other Weasley children, all of whom had left home, only one which she had known. Percy had shared the floor with the twins until hid abandonment of the family in favour of the ministry the previous year. They passed two more floors, each with only one door, which Hermione assumed belonged to her masters remaining siblings and parents, and as they finally entered the fifth floor finding a small door. Pushing it open slowly, Ron and Harry both entered sombrely, finding an extra bed tightly squeezed into the room and a few more comfortable looking blankets about the floor. The room itself was not overly small, though obviously cluttered, more furniture crammed into the tiny space than it would normally permit, the walls pertaining posters of a certain quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, that of which Hermione had more often than not seen upon various items of her Masters clothing. The two boys trudged over to and then flopped indolently onto their beds, staring over at each other in a drowned silence.

"How did you do it Harry?" Ron finally broke the silence, looking over to his friend, his eyes squinting, almost closed entirely.

"I don't know. I just, I saw it in my head. It felt real, it was real. It-" Harry could barely find the words to express himself, stumbling with his thoughts and only mumbling at his friend, not even wanting to look into his eyes.

"Wait." Ron suddenly sat up and turned towards a hunched Hermione, who still stood at the door with her companion, "You. Granger. Make me a sandwich."

"A sandwich?" Hermione half shouted at him, in disbelief at the bemusing request at such an hour, "It's three in the morning! Who the hell wants a sandwich at-"

"Hermione!" She fell silent, looking at him intensely, gradually understanding his demand for a 'sandwich'. He seemed so sad to her, so small in the face of what was happening around him, unable to gain any kind of control over his life at current. She nodded to him, knowing he needed time alone with Harry, and then left, rather begrudgingly yet thoughtfully,

"You too." Said Harry sombrely, watching as Carla followed her fellow slave, closing the door quietly behind her.

~x~x~x~

"Dear? Hermione? Hermione, its morning. Come on. Up you get!" Hermione shifted uncomfortably, groaning as she did so, feeling half of her body temporarily frozen and numbed, the other only mildly chilled. Peeling back her eyelids groggily she came face to face with Molly, who was giving her a small smile whilst repeatedly chuckling and tapping various areas of her face in an attempt to rouse her.

"Madam Weasley? What...?" She looked around a little, noting that she was still in the kitchen, a buttering knife and loaf of bread still in her hand from the previous night, only partly prepared. "Oh no! I fell asleep? In the kitchen? I am so dead." She pulled an ugly face, imagining that of her Master as he scolded her for her misbehaviour,

"At least I was just sent for company not to do something." Came Carla's cheery voice who was sat perched upon a chair at the table, busily and happily polishing Harry's shoes, approving of her own handiwork. Hermione squinted at her a little; almost unsure of whether she should ask her next question,

"Carla? Have you been with me all night?"

"Of course!" Her eyes widened a little at her friends response, thinking possibly she had missed a vital point of their conversation,

"And you didn't wake me up when I magically fell asleep?"

"No. I didn't think I had to." Carla put down the shoe and tilted her head at Hermione in confusion as her jaw dropped at she waved her arms about madly.

"Carla! Who did you think would wake me up? The fairies?"

"Well, no, they live in forests and glades, and can't really talk, just high-pitched buzzing really, so they wouldn't really be able to get you even if you wanted them too. But you did look awfully sweet. Little bit of dribbling and everything!" Hermione's jaw dropped lower, hanging down widely as Carla continued with her polishing, obviously oblivious to the possibility of Ron's wrath and the anger Hermione could have faced. Before she could even begin to explain, all of the previously sleeping inhabitants of the house appeared, fully dressed, at the foot of the long set of winding stairs, yawning and stretching as they made their way around the kitchen table.

"Right!" Said Molly, rushing forwards, removing her apron and ushering her children and Harry towards the door, "We have to be quick, we've got the Deputy Minister coming around later with his family. We'll have to be back in time to get ready, and don't you look like that Ronald, you know we have no choice regardless of how hideous that family can be." She added, seeing the disgust appear on her youngest sons face and proceeding to wrap a long multicoloured, fluffy scarf around her neck before turning back towards the girls, "Oh, and Hermione dear, there's a couple of letters by the sink, Errol delivered them earlier. They're mostly intact, though I think he must have fallen asleep at some point during his flight." Hermione looked over, seeing at least three envelopes and nodding to her earning a small saddening smile. The cluster of bodies began putting on coats and shoes hurriedly, Harry taking the ones in Carla's hands and walking to the back door to join them. Ron stood straight as he pulled a jumper over his head and then looked to Hermione,

"You can clean the kitchen too. Especially if we've got visitors. You can do the room, and then de-gnome the garden." Then he turned from her and walked out of the door, steadily followed by the rest of his family and Harry. As the door swung shut the two girls looked at one another, sighing slightly, clearly not amused. Hermione made a move forwards and towards the sink and then took the letters carefully, looking them over quickly before opening them. The first, from her parents, asked if she was coming home at all over Christmas this year and how her grades were currently, which made her heart sink a little. She made a mental note to steal her Master's report, copy it and heighten the grades slightly before sending it to them. The second was from Kevin and Justin, wondering where both she and Carla had gotten to, along with an invitation to Muggle Mayhem when they returned to the castle. The final letter was from Viktor, upset that she had not turned up for their rendezvous and that her had missed her company, adding that Crookshanks had since taken refuge under his bed after following a spider under there and that she would need to collect his refusing stiff body whenever she could. Hermione giggled to herself and placed all three within the folds of her Gryffindor dress, smiling over to Carla,

"Party time soon!".

~x~x~x~

It had been well over four hours since the house had emptied of most of its occupants, yet the two remaining girls had only just completed the interior of the house, swiftly but tiredly moving towards the exterior. As they stepped out into the garden a scuttling was heard yet again as small brown creatures, of approximately one foot in height, with disproportionately large heads and hard, bony feet, busy munched upon various roots and plants that they were pulling swiftly out of the Weasley garden. "They're like...large potatoes with little sprouty legs," commented Carla making Hermione chuckle loudly, "Well...what do we do?" Hermione looked awkward, remembering how her Master had complained in their first year about having been given this task by his father up until her arrival, in which he passed his duties to her, now leaving her almost unable to answer Carla,

"Err, well. Master Ron did mention once that you have to take hold of them, swing them around until they are dizzy, and then throw them over the fence." Carla too now felt extremely discomfited, not able to comprehend why such drastic actions needed to be taken,

"Throw them? But that's cruel."

"He did say they're extremely stupid. They don't really know it hurts or how bad it is. If that's any comfort to you?" Carla shook her head trying to look away, not even wanting to confront the situation, but something else suddenly caught her eye sharply. The small shed they had seen the previous night, seemingly calling to her, which she immediately made a dash for. "Carla? Carla! No! Don't you dare, you stay away from that shed!" However, her friend had already thrown the door wide open, ignoring Hermione completely, allowing herself to be engulfed by numerous broomsticks which had been clumsily placed inside and had then collapsed noisily over her. Hermione rushed over worriedly and began pulling them off of her, trying not to entangle herself whilst putting them back inside of the shed, noting the various makes and models, their names engraved into the thin handles, "Shooting Star? These are the ones that first years use to learn how to fly." She said in awe, holding one up for Carla to see, who grinned eagerly, "Cleansweep Five?" She confusedly held up a battered piece of wood, that was cracked and peeling, the brush pulled back in places and frayed, "These are so old...Why would such a large Pureblood family keep such outdated and cheap brooms?"

"Shall we have a go?" Carla asked suddenly, a cheeky grin upon her face, eagerness within her voice that Hermione had witnessed very rarely.

"What? No! Do you want us to be murdered when we're caught?" Hermione was shocked; yes true she had always longed to fly, longed to feel the weightlessness beneath her, even if it meant only hopping upon the back of someone else's. She could remember all too clearly watching her Master in their first year. She had stood with Carla, Xena, Serena and Maria, along with various other Gryffindor and Slytherin servants, at the edge of the training grounds at the back of the castle, clearly able to view the Quidditch Stadium and the Herbology Greenhouses from where they stood. Madam Hooch, wearing a white button-down collared shirt and black necktie with the Hogwarts crest, under a cloak had pushed thick goggles up into her short cut spiky grey hair and stared at her class of first years with her piercing, yellow, hawk-like eyes.

"Class." She had boomed at her trembling students, each clinging to a Shooting Star broom, excited yet terrified of their first true encounter with a broomstick, "Welcome to your first flying lesson!" And it had simply spiralled out of control from there. They had all been ready to make their first attempt yet as the class had lifted off of the ground Neville's broom had shot from under him and into the forest, leaving him with a painfully broken wrist. As both Madam Hooch and Serena accompanied him to the Hospital Wing, Harry and Draco engaged in a scuffle in mid-air, clearly flying without permission, despite being within the grounds. She remembered how she had feared for Harry's safety and then his place at Hogwarts as Professor McGonagall had shrieked his name in outrage before dragging him alone back into the castle, leaving a smirking Draco to congratulate himself on his excellent flying and the power that his father exerted over the school. Yet this had not come, and thankfully for both Harry and Carla, he had not been expelled, instead promoted to the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, becoming the youngest Seeker in a century, feeling further connected to his father who had been a Chaser when attending the school himself. And now here they were, with the chance of experiencing this feeling of flight themselves, yet Hermione could not shake the feeling that they would not be able to escape either unharmed or uncaught, her careful demeanour seeping through. She watched as Carla ignored her words completely and put one of the Shooting Stars on the ground and held a hand out over it, confidently smirking to herself,

"Up." The broom barely moved, feebly twitching, causing her cheeks to burn a little. Carla cleared her throat loudly, speaking more assertively, "Up!" It moved a little more, rolling onto its side promisingly before flopping back to its original position and stilling.

"With force! Mean it." Hermione suggested, earning her a cheeky grin from her friend and a twinkle of her eye.

"UP!" The nose lifted slightly, hovering for a second, but simply stilling again in front of the frustrated girl. Carla gave a loud huff, disgruntled and disheartened.

"Oh, come here." Hermione stood and walked the few steps over to her, pushing her friend and holding out her own hand, "Up!" The broom shot into her hand where she grasped it tightly, feeling the smoothed wood beneath her fingertips. "See. Not too hard..." She was tempting herself far too much for her own liking, almost not able to trust herself, "But that's enough. Put them away, we have the garden to do." Carla looked upset and ready to argue back, wanting herself to master the grasping of a broomstick with the possibility of convincing Hermione that flying them would be a good idea, "Carla! Come one, please." She nodded solemnly, and began picking up the other brooms, sulking that she knew she would be unable to convince Hermione otherwise.

~x~x~x~

It had become cold and dark as the returning family reached the backdoor of the Burrow, pushing it open and traipsing inside noisily to see the two girls resting near the fire, upon the floor, dozing steadily, clearly exhausted from their days work. No sooner had Ron made his way towards them, there came a rap upon the front door and Mrs Weasley hurried over to open it, looking worriedly around and shooing her children into taking a seat around the table. "Oi! Granger!" Ron hissed at her, "Arse up!" He gave her a small kick in the back and she shot bolt upright, staring up at him and then scuttling to her feet, dragging Carla with her. "Get up! Faster!" He took her wrist forcefully and pulled her over to the kitchen table where everyone else now sat and pushed her behind his chair, allowing Carla to stand beside Harry, "Stand here and shut up. Say nothing."

"But I didn't even-" She began half sleepily, looking at him ludicrously,

"Shut it!" The front door opened slowly and Molly bowed her head low, allowing a man and a woman to walk in, followed by their son, Draco Malfoy.

"Mr Malfoy. Mrs Malfoy. Please, do make yourselves comfortable in our humble home." Lucius nodded and walked towards the nearest sofa distastefully, which he sneered at before seating himself, holding his pale, pointed face high, his cold grey eyes piercing the ceiling distastefully. Using a snake-headed cane within his hand he motioned to his wife to sit beside him, noting her resentment of the jumbled house and her obvious revulsion of its inhabitants. She did so, a tall, slim, and very pale woman, with blue eyes and long blonde hair matching her sons, who also moved to be beside his father, lifting his nose at everything and refusing to seat himself.

"Now then Molly. It is with regret that Arthur has been in such an unfortunate...situation. We offer our condolences, and hope that he return to health...adequately quickly." He paused looking around at the children, brandishing a rather cruel smile, "Daddy will be home soon children." His wife Narcissa tried herself to offer a smile, but failed miserably, only managing a tight scowl. "Now. There are other things I have come to inform you of. I'm afraid that Albus Dumbledore will no longer be Headmaster at Hogwarts; instead his position has been taken by Dolores Umbridge, whom you have no doubt already heard of through Weas-, Arthur. She is also taking Defence Against the Dark Arts this year, all in aid of the school, I'm sure you'll agree. Aside from that, When Albus fled, Rubeus Hagrid has also disappeared, and has been replaced by Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank again, until we can find him. Alongside, I sadly report that Minerva McGonnagall will be away for a while, there was an...indecent...she was hit by several stunning spells..." Molly was nodding furiously, trying to hold back her obvious shock and frustration,

"Thank you Mr Malfoy. Most gracious for you to inform us. Perhaps you'd desire a cup of tea? Hermione?" Hermione's head shot up, suddenly looking extremely uncomfortable, not wanting to interact with the intruders of the house. After looking at Ron who gave her a careful, little push forward, she moved towards them.

"Master Malfoy?" She stumbled a little as she stood before them and then bowed deeply, "May I offer you a cup of tea?" Narcissa lifted her nose and turned away slightly, as if repulsed at the mere sight of Hermione, despite giving fleeting looks back at her, eyes full of pity.

"A Gryffindor slave?" Lucius turned suddenly to Ron whose back straightened immediately, "Well done young Mr Weasley, managed to hold on to one have we? Not had to 'set them free'?" He gave a small cold laugh and took Hermione's chin tightly in his hands, "What do you think Draco? Was this one worth keeping?" He turned her face towards his son, demanding an answer, a cruel smile still lingering upon his face,

"She's not so bad," Came his cold reply, looking her over carefully. He moved towards her and dragged her upwards to face him fully, pushing his face straight into hers, his eyes flitting suddenly to the side of her head and behind her, "But neither is she really. They'd need toughening a little. Or maybe more than a little..." He smirked at both Hermione and Carla and then returned to his father's side.

"Would you...like them Draco? Of course our friends would happily allow there slaves to become yours." Lucius maliciously smiled in Ron's direction, noting how his ears and cheeks flared scarlet, perhaps through embarrassment, perhaps through anger.

"We'll see how easy it is to have the others broken in first." Hermione's eyes widened considerably, almost pleading not to be taken with him, begging to be allowed to remain with her own Master, no matter the consequences.

"Yes...We shall...And we should go."

"Dear, aren't you forgetting something?" Narcissa placed a hand over her husband's arm, speaking very softly and very dangerously low, obviously intent upon leaving the building as quickly as she could.

"Ah yes...Molly," He turned to face her paled face and she forced a smile, bowing her head slightly. "You'll be pleased to know that Dolores has informed me that your son Ronald has been made prefect."

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><p><em>Japan's Arc Angel x<em>


	11. Chapter Eleven: Endeavours

_Finally :D Hope that the extras have made a difference! All chapters have been updated, over 20,000 words have been added too! I'm pleased to announce that this is no longer a Novelette, but is now a Novella =] I'm mega sad that my last chapter really didn't get many reviews though :( I would hope this one does better! So please please review for more :) And enjoy the new chapter! Constructive criticism welcomed! Just be aware that many events here are also a part of book five, but more from Hermione's point of view, all my own AU creations, and the 'missing scenes' which Hermione was never included in. Please enjoy!_

__Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes :P__

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><p><span>Chapter Eleven: Endeavours<span>

Number Twelve Grimmauld Place had to be one of the most unkempt places Hermione had ever entered in her life. Cleverly concealed by a Fidelius Charm, it was unplottable, unseen to Muggles, concealed between numbers eleven and thirteen. As they had appeared in a small Muggle neighbourhood of London, they had been greeted by a dog of the name Sirius Black, a wrongfully convicted criminal in hiding. The large wolfish dog had stared up at them and Hermione remembered thoughtfully the first time they had met properly two years previous as Sirius had dragged Ron from them and under the Whomping Willow, a great deciduous plant, its limbs function as arms that would defend it against anything within its vicinity, and down a secret passage towards the distant Shrieking Shack. She had feared for her Master's life that night, screaming his name and bravely running forwards, dragging Harry behind her, barely missing being knocked for six by its great whipping arms. They had entered the top room of the old derelict building, finding Ron sprawled in the corner of the room, leg twisted and broken in several places, groaning in agonising pain. Yet with him was not a dog, but a tall, withdrawn and sunken looking man, with dark straggly hair and piercing eyes staring back at them wildly. Hermione had later discovered them one and the same, an Animagus, and in fact, as Harry's godfather, Sirius had been completely innocent, led by the deception of one Peter Pettigrew who had spent years hiding as her Masters pet rat, Scabbers. She remembered after the attack of werewolf Professor Lupin, the ex-Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, both she and Harry had sat at her Masters bedside, having already witnessed the execution of a Hippogriff named Buckbeak, and awaiting the news of Sirius having received the Dementors Kiss and having his soul drained from his body, destined to be left as an empty shell in a constant vegetative state. The Headmaster had entered, looking in particular at her as he spoke, a slight twinkle in his eyes, "More than one innocent life could be spared on this night," She had studied him slightly, and her eyes widened, suddenly becoming one with his way of thinking, knowing that only she could really carry out this task fully, not risking Harry's place at Hogwarts. She had heard of ways to rewind time, used secretly by selected Slytherin Students to do their Masters constant bidding, their only way of ever having any time to get any rest. She had stood from her Master, fingers slipping from his, letting his hand fall from hers softly, and moved towards the elderly yet powerful man, who had peered at her over his half moon spectacles, eyes flickering slightly as he held out a hand and allowed a small object and chain to fall into her flat open palm. She studied the little object, a small hour glass surrounded by various rings and attached to a long thin chain, glistening up at her, one of the few truly magical objects that she had ever held, feeling the power exuberating from within it. "Three turns should do it," And then he had left, leaving Hermione to draw a deep breath and then to turn to Harry, pulling him in close to her despite his protests. Ron's eyes flickered open, staring over towards them, a saddened look in his eyes as he watched her throw the chain around both of their necks and looked deep into a now silent Harry's eyes, their faces so close. She had given Ron one last fleeting glance as she turned them back, seeing him not staring confused at them together,

"Ron!" She breathed, disappearing from view and returning far enough into their past, enough to save everyone. Now here they were again, Sirius panting up at them, tamer this time, turning and leading them down a small winding road and towards a large row of houses, towards the ancestral home of the Black family. Ron suddenly pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to the two slaves, giving the name of the house in vaguely familiar narrowly slanted handwriting before it burst into flames before them, disintegrating into nothing. A sudden rumbling back apparent to both of them, a house suddenly squeezing itself out from in between number eleven and number thirteen, the bricks shifting to make way for the forthcoming house, gradually appearing and making itself known to them.

"What the hell is this place?" Carla asked hesitantly, turning to Hermione for answers automatically, not thinking for once that she could possibly be just as unaware of the situation as she stared back blankly, unable to give any kind of answer.

"The headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore's Secret Keeper here. Only he can let people inside." Harry said carefully, giving Carla a small push forwards in the direction of the door, seeing how reluctant she appeared to even move. Taking the initiative, Hermione took her hand and lead her to the front door, the large wood looming over them as she gave a large push, it creaking as it swung forwards. Sirius darted in before her, followed by the rest of the group who did not turn back to look at, only Ron throwing behind him,

"Shut it quickly Granger! Arse inside! And for Merlin's sake be quiet!" She scowled at his retreating back as he disappeared through a narrow downwards staircase at the end of the hallway which itself was long and slight lit by a large chandelier hanging in the centre and gas lamps dotted about the peeling papered walls, illuminating a seemingly large portrait that had had curtained drawn across it. The carpet beneath then had worn thin, the only piece of furniture present being a troll leg umbrella stand, an ugly, hulking ornament that the two of them only just managed to avoid running into. An open door to their left revealed a dilapidated dining room which contained the usual furniture along with a large dresser which showed various pieces of engraved china and tarnished silver, old rusty daggers and a few scattered silver framed family photos through its murky glass windows, apparent spiders scuttling all over its surface. At the end of the hallway they came to two sets of stairs, one leading up accompanied by a row of shrunken House Elf heads which were mounted upon the wall on plaques, the other, where her Master had descended, and which she followed, leading out into a cavernous room which was presumably the kitchen. A large wooden table greeted them as they stepped into the surprisingly warm and well lit room where the others were currently gathered along with various other people whom Hermione had little or no knowledge of. Carla shivered next to her involuntarily and she took her by the arm to the other end of the room, conscious that all eyes were upon them and over towards a large fireplace at the other end and placed her friend by it, giving Carla her coat too, in an attempt to keep her warm. Behind her lay two small doors, one of which was closed, but emitting strange noises which unnerved Hermione slightly, but she chose to try to ignore this, instead taking a small sneaky peek into the other which turned out to be a pantry, before whipping her head back around to face them as a small cough interrupted her.

"It would do you best to stay away from that room Miss Granger." She turned around to find Sirius staring at her a little disgustedly, and she knew not if it was her own presence, or because of what was kept behind the door, "That's Kreacher's...bedroom...I wouldn't..." He snorted loudly and turned from her bending to whisper into the ear of her Master.

'Kreacher? What's...Kreacher?' Hermione wondered thoughtfully, thinking how a creature in itself could be regarded with such taste by its fellow household inhabitant, philosophising how Sirius could take such a negative view of anyone. There came a loud snap from the room behind and it suddenly dawned upon her, 'A House Elf...' Her face lit up slightly, and she knelt down towards a still shivering Carla and put her arms around her tightly, "Carla..." She whispered low into her ear, "A House Elf! We're not on our own; we have someone here for us!" Seeing her friends shoulders lift a little at this made her feel better about their situation, knowing that someone else would be here for them, to aid their issues and help them to cope with being thrown into a whirlwind of a situation. As sudden shout from behind them drew her attention,

"Granger! Upstairs, now!" Her Masters booming voice resonated over her, echoing throughout the room, "This is not for you!"

"Or you!" Interjected Molly, throwing him a stern and disapprovingly threatening look, "Take the girls upstairs Ronald, I'll bring up some dinner later."Her Master gave his mother a rather begrudging and reluctant stare, before peeling himself away from Harry and walking towards the far door, only stopping to whisper to his sister and then look at them both expectantly.

"Granger!" She gave a sudden shake and stood to attention, busily dragging Carla up with her, who stumbled slightly, almost completely unaware or who was with her, or what was happening to her,

"Carla? Carla! Come on." Her friend gave a small, sad, unknowing nod, dragging her feet a little as she tried to make her way over towards Ron, appearing ghostly and absent, "Carla?" Hermione asked cautiously, taking the crook of her elbow and pulling her a little quicker towards the door, "Come on. Please." Ron turned his back on them and walked out of the kitchen, up the stairs, on his way up to the first floor. Hermione felt physically sick following him past the heads of the deceased adorning the wall, noting their saddened and worn looks, their glassy eyes old and staring, unnerving her. She felt Carla shudder beside her, trying to pull away and almost tripping over the old worn wooden floorboard as she hurried up to the landing. Hermione's blood boiled in disgust, unable to comprehend how such a terrible thing could be done to a fellow 'slave', those of lower worth, the very souls that only ever sought to provide comfort for their wizarding Masters, to please and to pleasure, to serve. "It's barbaric..." She breathed, barely audible to any but herself, or perhaps simply ignored out of unawareness or even shame. "It shouldn't be allowed!" Her own Masters head whipped around, scowling back at her, making her suddenly aware of how loudly she had spoken, wishing that she could retract the echoing of her words as they filtered through the air. He took a step towards her, taking her firmly by the wrist and plucking Carla from her.

"You. Upstairs. Wait on the first floor landing." Carla gave a long, slow nod at his deep growl, barely registering what was happening around her, before walking past a little further up the stairs before continuing up the case as it doubled back upon itself, winding her way out of sight. He waiting until she disappeared, drawing in a large, deep breath, struggling for words, "Don't you get it Granger? My Dad! Harry! Everyone! It's dangerous! People like you aren't even meant to be here!" She gave a strangled gasp, staring up at him, almost watery eyed, hardly daring to even speak back to him,

"People like me? People like me! How dare you Weasley! What make you think you can talk to me in that way?" His eyes sprang open at her outburst, clearly not expecting it, a less than thrilling sense of déjà vu washing over him, "How can you be so prejudice at times like this?" She raised her hand at him, as if to strike him about his face, but instead balled her fist tightly, exhaling rapidly and vociferously before dropping to her knees in front of him and bowing her head low in defeat, finding the energy and will to fight back drained from her body. There fell a silence between them, neither really knowing what their next move should be. Hermione could barely hold her anger towards him, wanting to lash out and pay him back for all the cruelty any had suffered at the hands of a Pureblood. Yet, at the same time, all she wanted to do was to wrap him up in her arms and tell him not to worry for his father, that he would pull through and that the future could only get better for them. She shook herself little, trying to remove any kinds of sympathetic feelings for him from within her empathetic being.

"Hermione." He broke through, "This isn't the time. You know who you are and so do I. Do NOT anger me. I'll deal with you when we get back to Hogwarts. Now get up." He gave a short sharp kick to the knee and she felt him turn from her, walking in the direction that Carla had, clearly expecting her to follow him unquestioningly. She scurried up hurriedly after her Master, reaching the first floor readily, finding Carla crouched low upon the floor by an open door. "Bathroom," Ron pointed to the door, and then to another opposite it, "Drawing room, your bedrooms through it. Granger. You should be grateful I don't curse you."He didn't bother, or perhaps couldn't, to look at either of them, instead, suddenly retreated back down the staircase, not once giving them another glance. Hermione felt extremely uncomfortable, seriously beginning to worry about her friend's state of mind, not sure as to whether really take her with her or run, seek some kind of external help, find salvation for the both of them. Something stopped her though, something keeping her back, keeping her by her Masters side, not wanting to leave him. So instead, she went to Carla and took her by the waist and hauled her to her feet, leading her silently towards the drawing room, pushing the door open awkwardly. Inside there was very little furniture, save for a large fireplace that seemed not to have been lit in many a year and had gathered as much dust as the wooden floor, which had but a set of small footprints running through it and towards a door at the opposite end of the room. There was also a long large window facing the street, out towards the front of the house, running opposite to a tapestry that hung upon the opposite wall, depicting the family tree of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, a large crest in the centre depicting their motto of Toujours Pur, chilling Hermione slightly,

"Always Pure...It's disgusting..." She left Carla to herself in the middle of the room, moving towards the intricately designed drapery, noting how several names and faces appeared to have been magically removed, blasted, seemingly hastily and without regret, from the material itself, leaving large black gaping holes in its wake. "Bloodtraitors...At least there are still people out there who won't disband us." She turned back to face Carla, who seemed to be coming slowly back into herself, staring up towards the various missing pieces of material. She shuffled over, raising a hand and tracing it over the long singed fragments.

"I don't understand. I thought the Purebloods were all together against us, why would they abandon their own?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Hermione looked at her confused face, saddened by her naivety, "It's always something to do with us, being kind to us, marrying out of the blood. We ruin people's lives, even if it is for the better." A sudden bang from behind them revealed the youngest Weasley child bearing down upon them, her hair franticly buzzing about her head, her eyes slightly watery, and cheeks aflame.

"You...people like you ruin everything. Especially you Granger, you've ruined my brother's life, and I won't let you carry on. You get into that room and sit down and shut up. I don't want to hear anything from either of you! Especially for Harry and Ron. They have got their O. soon you know! You being here just doesn't help!"

~x~x~x~

Barely any time had been spent at number twelve before its residents were due to depart, headed back to Hogwarts to begin their studies and duties once more after their Christmas break. Despite their days being filled with the arduous cleaning of various parts of the house in an attempt to make it more habitable, the girls had enjoyed their freedom away from their repetitive duties at Hogwarts, once they had settled into their current predicament. They had also been witness to several objects of extreme interest, whilst cautiously trying to avoid biting fairy-like creatures named Doxies which randomly attacked them in their swarms, causing Carla to shriek loudly and spring from the room at random intervals, abandoning Hermione to deal with the problem accompanied by a large amount of Doxycide, which would leave her covered in the foul smelling black solution for hours at a time. Yet there were many features of the house that she would not miss, namely the Portrait of Walburga Black, Master Sirius's mother, which was situated in the hall and had an unpleasant habit of shrieking loudly at any disturbances which would fling back her curtains and allow her to hurl abuse of "Mudbloods" and "Bloodtraitors", due to the woman's previous prejudices against people such as the two girls before her death. The meeting of the aged House Elf, Kreacher, had not lightened their mood either as he clearly shared his former Mistresses views and despised Sirius for even allowing the girls in the house. His deep bullfrog voice could often be heard insulting the two of them as they cleaned, doing his supposed job for him whilst he glared through his many folds of skin and seemed to enjoy purposely destroying their handiwork within the house. However, Hermione could not falter him, blaming his discourteous manner upon those he had previously served, poisoning his mind against Muggleborns. Since arriving, the two girls had seen much mistreatment of him from Masters Sirius, Harry and Ron and it had only furthered their hatred of the exploitation of 'slaves', spurring them into the creation of a society that they would share amongst their fellow servants, originally named 'Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status', but upon finding that this could not be fitted upon a single badge, retained the name Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare instead, creating the acronym S.P.E.W which could easily be hidden from the praying eyes of the Pure and Halfbloods as they did their duties.

Only the day before had the two girls been busily reshuffling the wardrobes and cupboards of a large living room, possibly converted from an old master bedroom due to its spaciousness when they had encountered several objects of interest. Whilst withdrawing various items such as old dusty boxes containing several ancient seals, a suspicious looking snuffbox and an unopenable golden locket that held a large 'S' at its centre, Hermione had suddenly found herself slumped against the wall being violently shaken by her Master in an attempt to rouse her, remembering only a small music box and its faintly sinister, tinkling tune, that had apparently caused them both to lose consciousness. Seeing the look of relief upon his face as she hazily opened her eyes she blushed a little, but soon realised he was scowling at her, having possibly misunderstood his previous expression.

"Under the couch. Dead nest of Puffskein. Large snakeskin. Sort it!" She had nodded lazily at him and then dragged herself over to where he had indicated, trying desperately to readjust her vision and bring everything back into focus. Reaching under the sofa, rather unwillingly, she stopped suddenly as Carla opened a wardrobe and withdrew in disgust, holding up an ornate crystal bottle that had a large opal set into its stopper.

"Hermione?" She held it as far from her as she could, looking at it suspiciously, not wanting to be near the object, "Is this blood?" Hermione chose to draw herself away from it, rather intent now upon retrieving the dead creatures than looking at it.

"I'd just put it down if I were you. Best not to ask." She replied, soft squidgy fur under her fingertips, causing her to gip noisily as she fought the urge to relieve her stomach upon the newly scrubbed floors. Hermione heard Master Harry enter, intent on finding Carla, no doubt for another task he had found for her, but a sudden shriek from the two boys made her spin and turn to face them. Carla had reopened the wardrobe, allowing a small spidery instrument to fly out and scurry away like a many-legged pair of tweezers, running forwards them and trying to puncture Harry's skin, who readily crushed it with a chair, beating it back towards the wardrobe, intent upon now helping Ron who was suddenly being strangled by an ancient set of purple robes that had followed the device. Hermione gasped loudly and ran to him readily, "Ron!" She began manically tugging at the material as his face had turned slowly purple. Only with Harry's assistance did they manage to relieve him and close the wardrobe pertaining the objects,

"Do NOT...go in there again." Harry had warned a stiff Carla who still had a hand upon the doorknob and began shaking her head hurriedly, glad in herself that they would be leaving the decrepit home soon and would no longer be subject to sleeping with the young Mistress Weasley or be attacked by unknown creatures residing in hidden places within the many crevices of the old place.

~x~x~x~

It was very quiet as the two girls sat side by side next to the heater in the centre of the boy's dormitory, listening to their Masters sleep, waiting for the time to come at which they could depart. "I'm feeling good about this one," Carla whispered to Hermione, who turned and gave her a large smile, excitement slowly building within her like it did only once a year when their event would be held. Muggle Mayhem had always been kept secret, kept hidden from the Masters and Mistresses of the castle, hidden away in a secret room that had been discovered by a servant long ago, and had since used it to host an entertaining social gathering once a year from then on, mainly in the few following weeks after Christmas. Now, here the two girls sat, awaiting the turn of the clock, ready to take their gowns to change and then attend with Justin and Kevin, who had also permitted Viktor to accompany them, providing he kept their secret hidden and wouldn't tell another soul. "You ready?" Hermione nodded and then threw a large black coat over herself, drawing the hood to hide her features and taking a small parcel in her arms before making for the door, closely followed by an excitedly wired Carla. As they made their way out of Gryffindor Tower, the two headed for a bathroom on the sixth floor, readily intent upon changing, spotting the three boys waiting for them there, each in jeans and a shirt, obviously expecting them to already be inside and changed.

"Viktor." Hermione breathed, rushing to him and throwing her arms around him, which he accepted gratefully, lifting her a few inches from the floor and holding her tightly.

"Hermy-own-ninny." He held her back and smiled a little at her, "It iz good to see you." Neither of them noticed the twist that appeared in Kevin's face as he watched them, obviously biting his tongue and holding himself back. Carla, sensing the obvious awkwardness that had washed over them placed a hand upon Hermione's shoulder and sheepishly suggested that they get ready before they were late.

~x~x~x~

Ron sat bolt upright, throwing his shoe hastily in Harry's direction, which was received with a loud groan and a hasty reshuffling of covers as his head popped out from underneath the hangings of his bed. "They're gone. We gonna follow?"

"Oh shit, really? Already?" Harry rubbed his eyes and plonked his glasses, rather haphazardly, upon his face before dragging himself out of his bed, pulling on a jumper hastily and opening the trunk at the foot of his bed, pulling out his invisibility cloak. As he and Ron gathered beneath it, both had to stoop, particularly Ron, who had grown much since their first year and could no longer be covered solely by the material without adjusting himself. As they hurried after the two girls, they had already lost sight of them until they appeared at the Grand Staircase, spotting the three boys waiting patiently by a corridor on the sixth floor. They slowly crept down the staircase, becoming increasingly annoyed as Ron misplaced himself, forgetting to jump the particular step in front of them as his foot sunk right through a step halfway up the staircase. There were many of these trick stairs at Hogwarts; it was second nature to most of the older students to jump this particular step, and Ron was only saved as Harry seized him under the armpits to pull him back out. "Careful idiot!" He hissed, and then pointed down towards the group, as the two girls emerged from the corridor, Harry trying desperately to stifle his giggles as Carla spun around in a large puffy white dress that was over decorated with large roses with matching shoes and gloves, another rose, possibly larger than her own face, stuck high upon her head, glasses now removed. Ron however was watching a stunned Hermione's expression, deducing that this was indeed her first time seeing the dress her friend now wore.

"Carla?" They heard her say in surprise, to which a reply came,

"Yes? Don't you just love it?" She span around once more, flouncing her arms about rapidly, noticeably in awe of herself.

"You look like a cake." She stiffened at this and huffed at Hermione, suddenly rounding on her,

"At least I made an effort!" Carla said sourly, gesturing to Hermione's plain white, knee length dress, held only by a black belt at her waist,

"Oh shut up Carla, this is the only night a have away from that arse upstairs and I won't have you making it a bed evening!" Harry felt Ron spasm next to him, evidently restraining himself from throwing something at his servant,

"Ungrateful bitch..." He whispered, "Remind me to kill her later wont you?" Harry shook his head and gave Ron a rather disapproving look, "What? Yours needs some fashion advice too if you ask me, must be spending too much time with Luna." Ron reasoned, to which Harry had to nod in concurrence, noting that he had indeed seen one of the boys with Luna often and had assumed him her servant.

"Come on...they're moving...back up here! Move it!" Harry began to drag his friend backwards, careful to pull him over the step he had previously stepped straight through, shuffling hastily up towards the landing where they waiting for the small group to pass them and head down an adjourning corridor. The pair followed until they were halted abruptly across from a tapestry depicting the attempt of Barnabas the Barmy to teach trolls ballet, seeing the group wander past this spot three times, apparently thinking very hard, and not seeming surprised at all as a large wooden, intricately carved door suddenly appeared before them. As the five of them were about to enter, Viktor cleared his voice suddenly, subtly addressing their remaining companions,

"Ahem. Hermy-own-ninny, may I haff a vord? In private?" She looked to the others but gave a small nod regardless, watching her friends disappear into the room, Muggle music blaring out as the door swung open, but leaving them in silence as it shut once more. Both Harry and Ron crept a little closer, intent on at least gaining a peek into the room as it was opened once more, if not, gaining entrance.

"It's known as the Come and Go Room or The Room of Requirement. It only appears when a person has need of it and is always equipped for the seekers needs." Hermione broke through awkwardly; fully aware that this was the first time the two of them had been together since the ball. Stood beside Hermione, from beneath the cloak Harry and Ron saw Viktor pause for thought, clearly unsure as to whether as his question,

"So zay you really needed ze toilet..." Hermione chuckled at him, suddenly seeming more at ease,

"Charming Viktor. But yes, that is the general idea of it. Dobby showed it to me in my second year when I first came to one of the parties." Hermione had a thoughtful and fond look upon her face as she smiled at the memory, making Ron feel extremely uncomfortable, so unused to such an expression being present upon her face. She looked back up to Viktor who had taken a step closer to her, blushing brilliantly, a nervous grin plastered over her small lips. Harry felt Ron suddenly stiffen bolt upright next to him, threatening to expose them and panicked immediately, hurriedly trying to make sure that their feet were still covered as he began violently shaking,

"Ron you idiot! Get down! What's wrong with you man?" Harry whispered hurriedly, looking up at his paled face, and then following his wide eyed gaze, allowing his own jaw to drop at the sight that greeted him. Viktor had hurriedly pushed Hermione up against the wall behind her and captured her lips in one loving sweeping motion, one hand in her hair and the other at her waist. As he pulled away from her, their foreheads touched, and he bent low, whispering something into her ear that was inaudible to the two of them and then left her, walking into the Room of Requirement alone. They watched her dazed form rest against the wall for a few seconds longer before she pushed herself off of it, a confused look upon her face as she placed her hands on her temples as she span around a little, a sudden smile flashing over her face. Hermione exhaled deeply, almost groaning at what had just passed between herself and Viktor, before dashing over to the door and wrenching it open, leaving Harry and Ron alone, stunned in the empty corridor.

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><p><em>Japan's Arc Angel x<em>


	12. Chapter Twelve: Quidditch And Misfortune

_Thankyou to **Vitzy**, your advice inspired me further and I hope that this is enough to fulfil your request at least a little :) Also, **Hilary**, thankyou for your kind words as always and I hope that as I write more, their feelings become ever more apparent, **campanula1979**, your constructive criticism is muchly appreciated, and you're right, this is a RonxHermione story after all, but with a strained and very forbidden relationship thrown in the middle of it! **Pearls-and-crystal-blues**, once again you have delivered such an excellent review and I thank you profusely for it. __Thankyou all for reading and reviewing, I enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy writing these chapters for you. _

_There was an ending scene to Muggle Mayhem, but I decided to cut it, instead focusing more upon scenes for Ron and Hermione, which I know we all love and seem very impatient to have more 'fluff', and to upload this early rather than holding it back! I will say that I REALLY enjoyed writing this chapter, bringing out a bit more of Hermione's fiery and overprotective side, adapted a little since I couldn't put certain events in due to the overall plot!_

_P.s Don't worry, there's not much more ViktorxHermione, but if it's too much already, sorry for the disappointment, but I would hope that this chapter shows a little more feeling from both of our favourite protagonists, despite their current difficult and hormonal states! I hope you would enjoy this more than the last chapter, happy reading!_

__Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes :P__

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><p><span>Chapter Twelve: Quidditch And Misfortune<span>

"But Master, I don't even like Quidditch." Hermione looked up towards her Master from where she sat upon the floor, casually folding one of his t-shirts as she spoke.

"I don't care Granger; I want you there watching me! Do you understand?" He said bitterly from his bed as he lay staring up at the canvas above him, not wanting to digress the true reason for his adamant request of her. 'No way I'm having her run off for a day with Vikky, she's my bloody slave, not his. Not after last night.' He thought sourly, snarling rather involuntarily in her direction, noting her withdrawn and obviously irritated look as she straightened her back and continued her folding, oblivious to his growing hate of the boy she had come to care for so much, still unable to wipe the image that his mind had captured of her the previous night before Harry had dragged him back to their tower. She had never complained when going with Carla to watch Harry play in previous years, despite the trips being very frequent, even watching through his practices with apparent fascination. Yet now she was astringent about coming along with her own Master, even preferring to stay behind and scrub the floors until her arms fell off. He sat seething; running through his mind all the reasons as to why she would not want to see him play as Gryffindor Keeper, not want to watch him in his important role as a part of the team.

"Who are you playing?" Came her small voice, snapping Ron out of his inward rant, lifting his head up slightly to look at her. She was blushing a little, obviously trying to sound interested, to which he took full advantage,

"Slytherin. It's a big game. We have to leave in a minute anyway."

"I see. You'll have to be good then." He suddenly sprang to his feet, snatching up broom angrily, stomping his way towards the door,

"I AM good Granger! So get moving." AS he put his hand upon the door ready to yank it open, her voice made him suddenly stop, listening to her intently.

"Wait..." He turned to face her as she placed the clothes upon his bed carefully, and then stood but a foot from him, "Um..." He looked at her impatiently, tapping his foot a little, "Since I can't later, er..." She took one of his hands in both of her own, seemingly only able to look at it, which he was grateful for as his ears turned scarlet, "Good luck." She gave a sudden large exhale and dropped his hand, looking now to the floor, waiting for him to make the next move. He suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable, unsure of what he should do, wanting to take hold of her in gratitude, but also to reprimand her in the correct way for daring to act in such a way towards him. Instead he placed a hand upon her shoulder, watching her face turn up to him almost fearfully as he used his other hand to tilt up her chin, kissing her lightly upon the cheek, further confusing the both of them, seemingly unable to control themselves in the presence of one another, just for that one fleeting moment,

"Cheer for me, okay?"

~x~x~x~

Hermione was cold, not being happy about being outside in midwinter, even if she was obeying her Masters confusing wishes of having her with him at his opening Quidditch match. However, being of such status, she was not permitted to sit in the stands with the rest of the school, instead designated to the pitch itself, standing with a few other slaves from various houses, and both notably and surprisingly, the slave of Drace Malfoy, who Hermione had never spoken to, only knowing the strong looking boy as Stewart Ackerley, who had once been in Ravenclaw, but had transferred to Slytherin to work under his new Master. The boy scared her slightly, towering above her easily, and she chose to stand away from him by a small Hufflepuff girl, who was trembling from the cold. Hermione gave a quick look about herself and then removed her scarf, disbanding the fact that it was red and gold and offered it out to the girl, "Here. You won't last much longer if you don't get warm." She smiled gratefully up at Hermione, reminding her of how Carla had smiled at her the first time they had interacted with one another, knowing that she had indeed done the right thing.

"Thankyou. I'm very grateful." The girl bowed her head low and Hermione gave a small nod, now fully intent of being alert for her Masters game. She watched as Madam Hooch stepped out towards the now gathered players, speaking to the teams as a collective, though she could not fully hear as to what. As a loud whistle sounded the balls were released high into the air, the players shooting upwards, watching her Master streak off towards his three defending hoops. She had often wondered if he was good at Quidditch, never truly watching him play, only having to deal with the aftermath of his rigorous training sessions, seeing him play now truly for the first time with the rest of the school as he made his debut.

"And it's Johnson! Johnson with the Quaffle!" She heard their commentator, her fellow Gryffindor Lee Jordan, blast out over the stadium, beginning his insightful and rather amusing take upon the game at hand, much to the distaste of Professor McGonagall who interrupted him profusely after every one of his inane comments to 'add interest'. The crowd around her were booing, yelling and singing as loudly as they could, almost drowning out the ringing of Lee's commentary as it reverberated through the stands, "The crowds are loving this! What's that they're singing?" He paused momentarily to let the voices rise loud and clear from a sea of green a silver as the Slytherin's melody filtered out into the open pitch,

"Weasley cannot save a thing,

He cannot block a single ring,

That's why Slytherins all sing:

Weasley is our King.

Weasley was born in a bin,

He always lets the Quaffle in,

That's why Slytherins all sing:

Weasley is our King.

Weasley is our King,

Weasley is our King,

Weasley will make sure we win,

Weasley is our King." Hermione's eyes widened in shock, turning around to look at the stand behind her, feeling humiliated in herself for her Master, unable to comprehend how he himself must be feeling. It was ridiculous enough that there was segregation between the Muggleborns and everyone else, but between those who were left, those who were acceptable to wizarding society was absolutely ludicrous. Hermione knew there had long been rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and even more so between her Master and Master Malfoy, due to her Master's family being considered Bloodtraitors by some, but to openly mock him, especially in the presence of slaves, was unheard of before. She felt herself flush bright red, turning back towards the goalposts, trying desperately to concentrate on the game at hand, her insides boiling at what she had heard as Lee heightened the volume his voice in an attempt to overcome their mocking chants,

"Come on now Angelina! Looks like she's just got the keeper to beat!" Hermione watched as Mistress Johnson made her shot and missed horrendously as Bletchly, the Slytherin keeper intercepted it with blinding precision, throwing it to his teammate, who sped off in her Masters direction. The chanting from behind her grew ever louder as he sped towards Ron, leaving Hermione praying for him,

'Please. Somebody stop him. Please. Please.' She clasped her hands together, watching the lone figure of her Master, paling as a great swell of song wafted from the stands, 'Please Ron, just save it! Just one!'

"So it's the first test for the new Gryffindor Keeper Ron Weasley, brother to Fred and George! A promising new talent on the team! Come on Ron!" Yet the shrieks of delight came only from behind her as she shut her eyes tight, seeing her Master dive widely, his arms spread out wide allowing the Quaffle to soar between them and through the central hoop.

"No!" She could barely contain herself, growing ever more stricken as the cries of 'Weasley is Our King' grew ever louder, not truly knowing within herself how she could possibly become so upset over their deafening cries, Lee barely able to make himself heard above them as the noise thundered throughout the stadium. 'Catch the snitch Master Harry,' She thought frantically, watching him pull into a steep dive, barely noticing as Viktor came up behind her, watching intently at the game above.

"Not goingz good?" She jumped, terrified as his voice penetrated through the roars of the hundreds of students still belting out their renditions of their newly acquired chorus.

"Viktor! Er...no...but he can do better! It's just nerves!" She quickly gargled, still nervously watching the Quaffle flit between the various players who were being attacked on all sides by the pounding Bludgers sent by either team racing towards them.

"I haff not said differences." Viktor raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her as she look back to him and realised that she had inadvertently compared the two men, viciously defending her Master without even meaning to.

"Um, no. I just meant, he's good. I know he is." Viktor gave a small smile as both of them returned their gazes upwards,

"That iz good then." Fresh screams suddenly erupted from behind them, reaching high into the stands as they applauded Ron ferociously, him having been taken on head first by Pucey. Hermione glanced behind her, noting that the vile pug-faced girl Pansy Parkinson had turned her back upon the game and was now conducting the rest of her house in their repeated chanting, waving her arms about wildly with a large, overbearing grin plastered upon her face. Hermione scowled up at her, longing to beat a Bludger into the back of her head for even daring to make a fool out of her Master. Yet, as he let in more goals, Gryffindors first seemed like a lost cause, making her ever more frustrated, unknowingly pushing away Viktor's hands as she inched ever neared towards the boundaries of the pitch. She could see how it was affecting her Master and making him ever more erratic, humiliated by the taunting, his confidence drained and heavily impacting upon his abilities that she had so confidently told herself that he did possess.

"Come on Harry," She breathed to herself, only audible to Viktor who was stood close behind her, "End this. Don't make him suffer any more." As soon as the words left her lips she saw him dive at the opposite end of the pitch, soon accompanied by Draco, both neck and neck as the battled for possession of the Golden Snitch that could end their game and win it for either team. A scream from the Gryffindor spectators stand signalled its finishing as Harry lifted himself back up into the air, clutching the tiny struggling ball tightly within his fist. Hermione let out a sigh of relief, wondering how she could have possibly become so stressed over such a thing and allowed herself to succumb to such irregular behaviour. Yet she gasped suddenly seeing Harry fall from his broom as a Bludger, sent by the Slytherin beater Crabbe despite the final whistle having already sounded, hit him in the small of the back, luckily being all but five feet in the air, clearly winding him. She gasped loudly and ran forwards and onto the pitch to meet Harry who was busy being led off of the pitch by Fred and George, temporarily forgetting her own Master who was sulkily making his way over towards them. Draco landed in between them, a sour smirk adorning his face as he scowled at Harry and then even more so as Hermione joined them, "Master Harry! Are you alright? Do you need anything?" Harry gave her a grateful smile and shook his head.

"Oh that's right Potter, get Weasley's bitch to sort it for you." She saw Harry stiffen slightly, desperate not to retaliate; especially now seeing as Ron had appeared behind them within earshot. "You know, We wanted to write another couple of verses. But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly - we wanted to sing about his mother, see…we couldn't fit in useless loser either - for his father, you know…" George made a sudden rush for Draco, but was held back tightly by Fred and Harry, Ron not moving, still apparently in shock. "But you like the Weasleys, don't you, Potter? Spend holidays there and everything, don't you?" He sneered, seeing how his own smirking slave had joined their small huddle, standing beside his Master proudly, "What do you think Ackerley?"

"I can't see how he can stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles, even the Weasley's hovel smells okay… Or perhaps, you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley's pigsty shithouse reminds you of it-" Harry let go of George who overpowered Fred easier, both intent upon lamping Draco with their combined full force, only to be momentarily stalled as they all watched in amazement as an enraged Hermione's small fist connected with Ackerley's jaw, silencing him indefinitely,

"You just dares to say that about him again!" She shrieked at him as he held his now bleeding lip. She was visibly shaking, her entire arm throbbing, though she remained desperate not to show it, drawing herself to her full height, ignoring the cries from Professor McGonagall who had come streaking across the pitch, screaming at Harry and George to release Draco and to cease their assault upon him. With Fred's assistance, she succeeded in dragging them from him and set about frogmarching them from the pitch and up towards the castle,

"You too Miss Granger!" Realisation for what she had done suddenly crashed over her, silent tears falling from her eyes, looking back only once to her shell shocked Master, before following her Deputy Headmistress.

~x~x~x~

"I can't believe it." Harry sat in an armchair by the fireplace of Gryffindor Tower, Carla at his side upon the floor, Hermione with her legs drawn in tight, head rested solemnly upon them, rocking backwards and forwards.

"Banned though? All three of you? Fred wasn't even involved!" Ginny cried, almost hysterically, from the sofa which she lay upon, openly dazed.

"Well, apparently, Umbridge is the new High Inquisitor of the school! Which means that not only do we get the detentions from McGonagall, but the cow's gone and bloody nicked our brooms, banned for life! This is ridiculous, I feel crap." Harry exhaled deeply and leant his head back against the chair looking up towards the ceiling.

"Don't worry Master Harry; things will turn out okay in the end." She placed a sympathetic hand upon his knee, but he brushed her away nonchalantly,

"How Carla?" He half shouted at her, "How can it possibly get better?" She withdrew from him, a little stunned by his reaction, though seeming in herself to understand a little that he was almost grief stricken by his ban. "No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I'm sorry Carla." She smiled up at him, knowing that her Master was both stressed and frustrated, deciding that there was really only one thing for it,

"How about a nice cup of tea?" She stood up and made for the portrait hole, "Mistress Weasley?" She received only a grunt in return from the fiery redhead and sighed, leaving them three in the silence of an emptied Common Room.

"There's still one thing I just don't get." Harry broke through the silence, throwing his head forwards again, Ginny turning herself to look at him,

"What?" She asked inquisitively, yet he only looked towards a curled Hermione, who was still rocking back and forth in a trance like state that was only broken as he spoke once more,

"Why did you do it Hermione?" She glanced up at him, suddenly stationary, looking withdrawn and gaunt, before staring at Ginny who was glaring at her, "Hermione! Answer me." She torn her eyes from Ginny and moved them towards the floor, struggling for words,

"I couldn't exactly hit Master Malfoy. And they were being cruel! Saying such things about one of their own, it's bad enough that I'm treated differently, but they will not speak about him and his family like that in front of me!" She realised that her voice had run away from her, spewing more than she should have, before she even realised what she had said. She gave a sheepish look towards Ginny, who sat staring at her, a stunned look gracing her features, the softest look she had ever given Hermione in all the years since they had first met.

"What did he say about my family?" She asked Hermione tentatively, leaving the sofa and bending down in front of her, searching her face for answers. "Hermione? What did they say?" She opened her mouth to answer, only to close it again with a deep shuddering breath before looking away and to Harry, who did not offer her any help in explaining,

"Just," She began slowly, "Just things about your parents, and your house. Things that shouldn't be said. I don't...I don't want to say..." She buried her head back into her knees, not able to see as Ginny nodded slowly and then stood up again. There was a moments more silence, only the soft thump as she sat back in her seat.

"Thank you." She whispered, a little forcedly, causing Hermione to stiffen slightly and then lift her head to peek at Ginny, almost unsure that she had heard correctly. Yet before she could even dare to ask, a bang from behind her alerted them to the arrival of her Master. Still dressed in his Quidditch Robes and armour her dropped his broom by Hermione and collapsed next to his sister.

"Master," Hermione came to his side, sitting by his knees and looking up at his blank and emotionless face.

"I'm going to quit. I should have never even imagined I could be any sort of Keeper." He stated, not an ounce of emotion evident within his voice. Hermione's jaw dropped and Harry shot up in his seat,

"You mustn't! You can't just give up!"

"She's right," Added Harry, "We've been banned, mate. We need you on the team more than ever now." Ron's face contorted in disgust and horror,

"This is quite possibly, the worst that I have ever felt."

"Maybe this is the wrong time, but I was told on the way back up here, by Dobby, that I had to tell you that Hagrid's back." Hermione said tentatively, seeing Harry's head turn in her direction

"I'm going for the cloak, we have to go and see him." With that, he left, dragging Ginny with him and out of sight up the stone staircase leading to the dormitories. The lingering couple remained motionless, not even daring to look at one another, not even as he pulled her up into his chest and resting his head upon her own, leaving her unsure of whether to hold him back or to just allow her arms to dangle freely as they currently were.

"You're so stupid Hermione." He said softly, but suddenly seemed to snap to his senses, remembering who she was to him, and pushed her away gently, "Er...don't do it again Granger." He sat back in his chair looking in every direction other than hers that he could, grateful as Harry and Ginny returned, cloak in arm and ready to leave.

"There's something we need to talk about on the way there, come on, let's go." Harry said to Ron, choosing his words extremely carefully, fully aware of Hermione's presence. Ron nodded and joined the two of them, giving Hermione one last look as they disappeared beneath the cloak, and a bang from the portrait hole signalled their exit, despite another following it and a rather happy Carla bustling in, a tray full of tea, confusedly looking about after seeing only Hermione remaining.

"They're gone."

~x~x~x~

Hermione stood open mouthed, at the bottom of the Grand Staircase, staring up at the floors above her. "Oh...my...Merlin..." The once filled walls of the castle were now bare and empty, all of its previous portrait occupants having been removed, Hermione guessing rather noisily and unwillingly. In their place hung a single small framed certificate on the first floor which Hermione had to raise upon her tiptoes and squint to see. Drinking in the information she gasped and gathered up her Masters clothes in her arms as tightly as she could rushing towards the library where she knew he would be. Crashing through the large doors and ignoring the disgusted stares of all those around her, frantically running down the various isles in search of Ron, spotting him huddled in a back corner with Harry and Neville. "Master! Master!" She cried out, earning hushing whispers from all around her, and seeing his head spring up almost in shame, beckoning her too him hurriedly. As she pounded to the table, she threw the clothes in front of him, panting heavily,

"GRANGER!" He looked around quickly and then lowered his voice considerably, "What the hell are you doing? Can't you see we're doing our Defence Against the Dark Arts theory work? Wait...are those my pants?" He blushed scarlet and began rapidly pulling them out of sight, scowling at her slightly,

"This is bigger than your pants Ronald! Besides, we've all seen them before anyway. No, this is important." She gabbled at them, almost ignoring him as she turned to Harry,

"My pants are important Granger!"

"Ronald! Will you just listen to me!" She pounded her fist down upon the table in front of him harshly, only stopping to reconsider her words at the expression etched into his face, feeling a sudden pain shoot through her head causing her to grapple with her earrings agonizingly. "Master..." She began again, strained, careful to select her words delicately, "Mistress Umbridge, an Education Degree, banning any kinds of activities not previously approved, including Quidditch!" Silence fell over them as the boys studied her carefully, unsure of whether to trust her words.

"If this is true..." Harry began slowly, "This needs addressing. First practical, now Quidditch, this can't go on. We have to sort out the DA, and now. Before it's too late." Ron nodded gravely and then seeing Neville still staring at Hermione, quickly changed the subject,

"Er, anyway, forgetting that, what about conflict avoidance and fleeing? It's always an important aspect of wizarding interactions."

"Ron...what the hell are you going on about? You hate those topics!" Harry twitched suddenly and scowled at him, rubbing his shin, "What was that for idiot?" Harry looked over to a highly confused looking Hermione, who has busy folding a pair of Ron's socks into one another, looking down towards the table and waiting for them to address her again, "Ooh. Wait! Actually, Hermione, you can do something for me can't you? I'd ask Carla, but her memory..." Both she and her Master looked confusedly at Harry, but Ron nodded his approval regardless, waiting for him to continue, "At about half eleven tonight, wait by the fire in the Common Room for me, okay? I'm expecting someone, bit I have that stupid detention for the other day first." She nodded slowly, completely mystified now,

"Er, okay..."

"Just do as you're told for once Granger." Ron said lazily, flicking his quill at the page before him, obviously struggling to even comprehend any of the symbols upon the page before him.

"Um, yes Sir. Master Harry, Master Neville." She gave small nods in their direction, before gathering her Masters things, ready to depart once more, "Oh, and Sir, I think what you're looking for is Verdimillious Tria, circular motion with a quick swipe forwards at the end." Hermione left, her back turned firmly against the three of them, who were staring amazed at her retreating figure.

~x~x~x~

Hermione sat patiently and quietly by the side of the fireplace, unsure of why she had been told to remain here in the first place, and a little uncomfortable about the visitor that Harry was expecting. A loud huffing caused her to turn around slightly, only to see Carla stood by an old bookcase, yawning widely and stretching her arms out almost to breaking point, earning several loud cracking noises from her joints. "Gaah!" She collapsed into herself hastily, huffing a little, "Ooh, haven't done that for a while!" She gave another yawn, smaller this time and then rubber her eyes a little, "What are you doing 'Mione? I was waiting in the kitchens for you for ages you know."

"Oh," Hermione began, not really wanting to digress that Harry had been the one who had given her these particular specific orders, "I was asked to sit here for a while." She smiled sheepishly as Carla came forwards and kicked off her small dolly shoes, collapsing heavily upon the sofa, dragging her apron from around her waist in one swift motion.

"What a git of a Master you have. Wait...do you hear that?" Hermione lifted her head a little, slowed her breathing and listened very carefully. A faint knocking was coming from the outside window on the opposite side of the room. "Who's outside the window?" Carla automatically assumed, clearly bamboozled as to how someone could manage to climb to such a height.

"Or what..." Hermione stood and shuffled to the window, trying to catch a glimpse of any kind of figure against the dark night sky. A white mangled mess swooped into view and she immediately threw open the window, allowing a snowy owl to swoop in and almost crash into Carla as it attempted to land next to her, making a very sloppy attempt. "Hedwig!"

"Master Harry's owl! But...what's wrong with her?" The owl seemed to be limping rather badly, an obvious splattering or blood covering a couple of feathers and the majority of her talons.

"Oh my." Hermione immediately whipped out a handkerchief that she had kept within the folds of her apron and began attempting to straighten the owl, who screeched and protested painfully and had to be clamped by Carla in order for Hermione to haphazardly bandage her. "I wonder what could have happened to her," Carla let the animal free, who hopped away lazily to perch upon the armchair, leaving the letter she had delivered by the girls side.

"Do you think someone's interfering with the post?" Hermione looked up towards Carla, carefully considering her words, not sure whether they would be able to say for certain, sure that even if it had been, they would not be able to tell, the seal no doubt repaired by magic to its original state. Her Master had often spoken of the trickery of wizards and their abilities of deception towards one another when they had assumed her not listening. She had even been persuade to steal from the Potion Master Severus Snape's private storage in her second year, all so that they could brew a potion to infiltrate the Slytherin Common Room. She always shuddered at the memory of it, remembering how she too had been forced to partake, assumingly to transform herself into a young girl of the name Millicent Bulstrode, instead finding herself half human, half cat, after a mix up with her own potion. The humiliation that she had suffered as she had been taken to the Hospital Wing to recover had been tremendous, and she vowed to never drink anything that her Master created ever again.

A sudden crackle from behind them caused her to whip around and then recoil in horror as a familiar face burst through the flames before them, hovering as if alight within them, though seemingly unharmed.

"M-Master Sirius?" She struggled to form the words in her mouth, completely unsure of what was happening and how he had come to be in front of her.

"Hermione! Carla! Where's Harry?" His voice sounded urgent, but clearly understanding of how confused such Muggleborns would be at this precise moment in time.

"He's in detention with McGonagall, fighting at the last Quidditch match. But he's been given a life ban from Umbridge. I-" She gargled out, suddenly cut off as Sirius broke through,

"What? That's ridiculous! What about the DA? What's happening with that?" He looked towards Hermione hopefully, knowing of her clear intelligence and trustworthiness, hoping that Harry had relayed some kind of information to her. Yet before she could speak, he himself cut through them both,

"She doesn't know about things like that Sirius." Harry and Ron both stood by the small entrance of the Common Room, having silently slipped in but seconds ago,

"It's for her own safety." Added Ron, "We don't need her in any more trouble than she already is for decking Ackerley."

"Oh, I had just assumed despite their status that they had been told. Though perhaps, your current situation Ron could prevent that." Sirius added, obviously hinting at some situation that remained completely unknown and hidden to the girls.

"It's not important." Ron stated, rather flatly and standoffishly, choosing not to look at the man in the fireplace.

"What is important is a meeting place for the DA. You can't keep letting Umbridge treat you this way. Look Harry, I don't have much longer, you need to find somewhere. Somewhere hidden." Harry was nodding profusely yet dismally, having failed to think of such a place thus far. A small cough from Carla alerted them all to her presence once more,

"Well, there's always the room..." She looked knowingly at Hermione, both of them still unaware that they had been followed to Muggle Mayhem the previous week and still under the impression that their Masters knew nothing of it, rather than that it had just slipped Harry's mind.

"If you need to keep hidden, and you don't want just anyone getting in," Hermione continued for her cautiously, "Why don't you just use the Room of Requirement?"

* * *

><p><em>Japan's Arc Angel x<em>


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Midnight's Kiss

_Sorry about this update not being as quick as the last, work and all gets in the way, I had a holiday in Lloret De Mar too :) Thanks for the reviews, including **Gleek1906-Klaine4eva**,** heronlove**, **Hilary **and **Vitzy** for your lovely words of encouragement which always help with my motivation to write more chapters. Also, to **fatty73**, thank you for taking the time to go back and re-read the previous chapters in order to gain a better and further understanding of the story itself, and thank you to all others who also gave up their valuable time to catch up on events. **pearls-and-crystal-blues**, your mail has greatly swung my decision in favour of taking this story further and have decided that if I gain enough support from my final chapter of this fiction, which is all but seven chapters away now, I will be continuing into a sequel, that of which I would hope you find as enthralling as this first instalment, thank you._

_I hope that you all enjoy!_

_P.s I would hope that the contents of this chapter are obvious to my readers and people don't take it as another 'Ron/Hermione hate session', because it really isn't!_

_Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes :P_

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Thirteen: Midnight's Kiss<span>

"Luna. You freak me out. Seriously." Ron stated flatly, refusing to even look at her ephemeral figure anymore, instead focusing his intent gaze heavily upon Hermione who was stood with Kevin a few feet away, smiling as he spoke softly to her in words that could not be heard.

"Bit harsh don't you think mate?" Said Harry pitifully as Carla chucked, both sat next to him as they all leaned heavily against a large tree upon the outskirts of a clearing hiding just within the reaches of the Forbidden Forest. It was a feverishly warm day, and as he had been dismissed early from Potions, both Ron and Harry had taken it upon themselves to find a leisurely retreat, in which to hide themselves away and make light plans for their next DA meeting. However, they had suddenly found themselves in the company of Luna and her slave, who had hurriedly rushed forwards to embrace the girls who had accompanied them, much to Ron's obvious distaste. A shriek from Harry had aroused the current argument in which he had become further disgruntled after being told that he was surrounded by 'invisible' creatures.

"Do you remember me telling you that I could see them too Harry?" Luna called over, seemingly holding a large piece of raw meat for no reason, which suddenly disappeared from his sight, making his stomach turn a little.

"What...what are they?" Harry asked, a little sceptical, "I've only been able to see them since the start of this year."

"They're called Thestrals. They're quite gentle, really... But people avoid them because they're a bit..." She replied, not even looking towards him, seemingly unable to finish her sentence.

"Different? But why can't the others see them?" He asked, looking over to Ron who huffed at an oblivious Hermione who he could see was casually holding hands with Kevin.

"They can only be seen by people who've seen death." Carla said suddenly, staring over towards the animals silently, "But they're very rare." One of the closest of the group of the particular breed of winged horse stared back at them, its skeletal body shuffling around slightly, fluttering its wide and wingless leathery bat like wings, its reptilian features staring back at them trough white, glittering eyes which lacked both expression and pupils, giving it a somewhat grim, gaunt and ghostly appearance. Harry felt a twang of pain and guilt as he watched Carla's head drop a little, seemingly suppressing a lost memory to the depths of a hidden and dormant past. "Papi, my grandfather, he fell, broke his neck...A long time ago though, all in the past. At least these creatures are an upside to that burden."

"My mum died." Added Luna, smiles never leaving her face, "She was quite an extraordinary witch, but she did like to experiment...and one day, one of her spells went badly wrong. I was nine." Carla looked up and over towards her, almost glad that another had shared her pain and still managed to keep a loving smile upon her face, to know that there was good to come from any kinds of bad,

"Memories. Our greatest gift, Mistress Luna?"

"Our gifts are always left to us by those whom we love the most." Luna span around a little, skipping over to them and picking up a large slab of raw meat from within her bag that she had collected from the leftovers of previous dinners, procured from Kevin in the kitchens. Walking to a small foal she held it up high so that it had to flap its tiny wings, raising it from the ground slightly so that it could snap up the offered food whilst she gently petted its mane. "At least there is always new life to take the place of the old."

~x~x~x~

"It's okay, I promise you." Kevin smiled at her, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her in towards him a little. "They're right in front of you. Can't miss them!" Hermione looked up to him, frowning a little,

"Well I obviously can idiot." He laughed at her, earning a smile in return.

"Here," He took her hand in his free one, pulling her forwards a little and towards the Thestral, its long black mane and rather large tail flicking backwards and forwards and its sharp fangs poked through its dragon like lips, a black tongue slipping through occasionally, seemingly trying to lick the two of them, unbeknown to Hermione, whose face was slightly contorted with fear and suspicion. "They're fine, honestly." Placing both of their hands upon the animal so that Hermione would feel its smooth and slippery fur beneath her outstretched palms, its bones poking through slightly, making her feel slightly better about being near an animal that she could not observe herself. "See?" She smiled, warming his heart a little more,

"They're not so bad I guess. What's it doing?" Stroking the animal lightly, she closed her eyes, trying to imagine such a creature before her, feeling as though a new world had suddenly opened to her, despite it slipping from her sights, almost cruelly snatched away, but leaving her in a content state, happy that she had at least been graced once by such a majestic creature.

"Just flicking its tail at the moment, why, did you expect more?" He looked a little worriedly at her, despite her firmly closed lids, hoping that his voice would reach her fully instead.

"They're beautiful." The two of them stood a few moments, silence passing between them as a peaceful aria, neither wanting to break their comfortable and serene calm, their safe stillness with one another. Hermione had rarely had these particular moments with anyone, and certainly not around any kinds of magical creature. She remembered back to her accompaniments of her Master to his Care of Magical Creatures classes and her attempts to care for his Blast-Ended Skrewt for him, as he himself refused to be in any kind of danger from the hybrid animal, which resembled neither of its Manticore or Fire Crab parents. Having been highly confused about being dragged wildly towards the hut of Rubeus Hagrid, the gamekeeper turned Professor, Hermione had suddenly had a pale, slimy deformed shell-less lobster thrust into her arms, its legs jabbing various body parts as they stuck out at odd angles making her gag from its repulsive rotten fish odour.

"By the way," Ron had looked at her bored, "I'd check if it's a boy or a girl if I was you. Males have stingers and the females have suckers. They'll get you either way." Shrieking she had held it away at arm's length, retching once more, desperate to relive herself of something so repulsive. Yet it had given a sudden spark, propelling her forwards a few inches whilst trying to grasp it still tightly yet cautiously within her fingers. As the year had worn on she discovered that as they grew their grey, shiny armour and her own males stinger curved now over its back, elongating it, the Skrewts became ever more dangerous and repulsive, despite how accepting of them she tried to be. She had moaned continuously to Carla about how her master had treated her, could not believe that she had been forced into such a situation whilst he sat and watched her work tirelessly through the summer weeks while he lazily gorged upon chocolates and ice-cream that she had had to reluctantly carry with her in the first place. Yet now she smiled, remembering a kindness that her Master had shown her, perhaps through guilt, or the need for her continued existence as his slave, after she had been suddenly thrown backwards as a Skrewt had shot ahead, using its blast to propel itself forwards into her, knocking her unconscious, falling into a crumpled heap upon the floor. All that she could remember from those next few days were snippets of what she hoped were memories, though they seemed more like something that her mind had created, to remove the pain that she had been suffering. Her Masters face had appeared to her several times, running with her in his arms towards the Hospital Wing; arguing with Madame Pomfrey, the schools matron, as well as Nurse Wainscott who had been busily attempting to attend to Hermione's various wounds; and sat by her side, muttering to her. She had always hoped that this had been a kind Master, one that she had always wanted desperately to know, though these were dashed slightly when she had eventually come around fully, enough to leave and return to her duties. He had scolded her terribly for gaining such an injury that had allowed his Skrewt to be killed off by one of its kin, punishing her with her maids outfit for the entire week whilst carrying a constant supply of Flobberworms which wiggled noisily in her pockets, munching hungrily upon lettuce. She shuddered at the thought of how many she had squashed or allowed to die from overeating.

"Hermione?" Her eyes opened suddenly, remembering exactly where she was and how she had obviously been ignoring Kevin's attempts to talk to her for a fair while. She gave a small laugh and a hasty smile,

"I'm fine!" She slapped his arm, perhaps a little harder than she intended, squealing at the top of her lungs in an exaggerated manor, drawing the temporary attention of those who had sat obliviously a little way from them. Yet it was another cry that made everyone turn and stare at her Master who had suddenly jumped up from where he sat and run, sprinting towards her, his arms flailing about his head madly, inaudible shrieks flying from his mouth.

"'MIONE! 'MIONE!" Taking her arms firmly in his hands he spun her around, shoving her in front of him and forwards a little, "That ugly dogs of yours! Get rid of it and them!" She stumbled a little as he pushed her more, pointing towards the space he had vacated, still not understanding why he was doing so until Crookshanks slunk out of a tree, grinning lazily to himself and perching where Ron had previously sat.

"Crookshanks?"

"Granger!" Ron once more pointed towards the floor, indicating a trail of small and still black objects that had fallen from his robes as he had run to her. Her brow furrowed as she lent a little closer to them and then turned her head backwards to face him,

"Are they...?"

"Spiders Granger!" She chuckled at him, remembering his cute fear of spiders as undoubtedly Crookshanks had also done so, teaming a large collection into his lap from a branch above him where the craft feline had steadily collected a mound of the dead creatures with the full intention of annoying and aggravating Ron.

~x~x~x~

Hermione let out a loud sigh, clearly bored senseless as she shifted her legs from under her and to the side, trying not to crush them under her own weight. Ginny shot her an unpleasant look from the sofa upon which she and her brother sat staring blankly at various sheets of paper that seemed to be screaming knowledge at him to which his brain simply refused to comprehend. Smiling a little she noticed a small brown owl tapping lightly upon the window, and standing, she hurried over to let it in. It circled over their heads a little, not rousing the concentration of any in the room and then settled upon Hermione's head as she made her way back to her place beside the fireplace, intent upon waiting for further instruction from her Master. As she sat it scurried from her hair and sat upon her apron, waiting for her to take its letter, which she did so carefully, thanking the owl and allowing it to fly back out of the now open window. Recognising the loopy hand writing immediately she smiled widely and tore open the envelope, reading the hastily scribbled note intently. A sudden bang and the portrait hole of Gryffindor Tower was thrown open, a slightly dazed and confused looking Master Harry stumbling in and flopping into the closest arm chair, staring into the fire's dying embers. Seemingly in a state of shock, he appeared to be fighting an internal battle within himself, unnerving her slightly.

"What kept ya?" Asked Ron, barely lifting his head from the paper that may as well have contained images of slugs rather than intricate spells and incantations. "Mate?"

"Did something happen Harry?" Asked Ginny, peering at him over her quill suspiciously,

"Cho?" Sniggered her Master, who was suddenly silenced as Ginny kicked him in the stomach sharply from where she laid splayed over half of the sofa.

"Er-" He managed to croak, Hermione suddenly understanding his situation immediately. Mistress Cho Chang had long since caught the eye of Master Harry, despite her connections to the now deceased Cedric Diggory, and the two had been floating about each other for months, not coming together, but not drifting apart, seemingly awaiting for action to present itself, rather than create it themselves. She knew from her slave that Cho spent most of her time crying in recent days, in any hidden corner of the castle that she could find, grieving the loss of her former interest, feeling the guilt of reciprocating Master Harry's feelings

"Did you kiss?" Ginny demanded of him suddenly, causing Ron to sit up so fast that he sent his ink bottle flying all over the rug and Hermione who gave an exasperated sigh, scowling up at his oblivious figure. Seeing his friend nod a little, he made a triumphant gesture with his fist and went into a raucous peal of laughter that made several timid-looking second-years over beside the window jump. "And how was it?" Ginny spat, throwing Ron a disgusted look, clearly not wanting to look at either of the boys that were currently in her presence. Hermione chuckled inwardly, seeing the jealous look that had spread across the youngest Weasley sibling's face that clearly the others were ignorant of, as they always had been.

"Truthfully...wet...she was crying." He sighed heavily, throwing his head backwards and towards the ceiling, Ginny moving a little closer to him hesitantly.

"Wow...you're actually that shit at kissing!" Ron jeered, making a noise of either jubilance or disgust, which was indistinguishable.

"How insensitive, he's definitely not. I feel sorry for the poor girl." She said aloud aimlessly, forgetting that she was not alone or sat quietly with her own thoughts.

"Why?" Both Ron and Ginny shot at her suddenly, glaring at her for daring to interrupt.

"Obviously, she is feeling very sad, because of Master Diggory dying. Then I expect she's feeling confused because she liked him and now she likes Master Harry," A sudden scraping and scrambling saw Ginny bolt from the room in a flurry, leaving them to stare after her momentarily, before returning to look at Hermione, "And, well, she can't work out who she likes best. Then she'll be feeling guilty, thinking it's an insult to his memory to be kissing Master Harry at all... And she probably can't work out what her feelings are towards him anyway, because he was the one who was with Master Diggory when he died, so that's all very mixed up and painful." Silence fell over them as the remaining participants stared aimlessly at her, their brains clearly in overdrive as she casually reread her letter earnestly.

"One person can't feel all that at once, they'd explode." Ron said, making large gestures with his arms in her direction, all of which she ignored fully.

"We don't all have the emotional range of a teaspoon," She muttered in retaliation, thinking how she could escape her Master to go and meet Viktor who was currently awaiting her on the fifth floor by the Prefects Bathroom. Taking the initiative she simply stood and made for the portrait hole, choosing to ignore the stares of her Master and Harry, hoping that they would simply allow her to leave and not question her actions. Yet she cringed as Ron barked in her direction,

"And you're going where?" Slowly rotating on the spot she slapped a sickly smile onto her face and cooed,

"Nowhere in particular my kind Sir, just some errands to run!" He shifted a little in his seat, eyeing her suspiciously,

"I don't remember sending you anywhere Granger. Who are you going to meet, is it that Kevin boy? Or Vikky maybe?" He spat at her harshly, folding his arms and glaring in her direction, obviously agitated.

"Oh no no no Master! Your...it's just...your pants!" She cried aloud, inadvertently pointing towards his crotch and causing his face to ignite as he crossed his legs violently. "NO! Not the ones you're wearing!" He picked up the few quills that were resting upon the arm of the sofa and threw them in her direction, watching them shower over her, spreading more ink to her already sodden clothes.

"Granger!" Throwing her hands forwards at him she waved them manically, not at all wanting to insinuate anything she deemed as disgusting towards her own Master.

"The others need washing!" She almost screamed at him, being interrupted only as Carla stepped into the room from behind her, humming away to herself, buried under a mound of books and parchment.

"Oh, Hermione," She said suddenly, seeing her friend in mid outrange pose, yet choosing to ignore it, "Viktor's still waiting for you, you know, he said to give you a reminder." Hermione froze suddenly, her eyes widening and locking with her Masters, who grinned evilly at her,

"Pants eh Granger?" And with that he stood, pushing his face into hers and snatched up her wrist, "Let's go visit Vikky then shall we?" With that, he dragged her rather ungraciously and abruptly out of the tower and down the staircase, towards the fifth floor, leaving Harry and Carla to stare after them bewildered.

"Please. Master. Stop this. You don't have to do this!" Hermione tried to pull away, to release his tight grip and run from him, perhaps to warn Viktor, perhaps to hide, either way, to relieve herself of his presence.

"Oh, and why not?" He suddenly rounded on her, bearing down angrily upon her, "So that my slave can keep on lying to me?" He gave her a little shake before continuing to drag her down the corridor, spotting Viktor but a few meters around the next corner they took, "Oi! KRUM!" The Bulgarian span around, surprised it was Ron who had called him, yet he smiled none the less, albeit a dark and cruel smile of which Hermione had not seen before.

"Ah, Veasley," Viktor sneered at him before taking Hermione's hand and pressing the back of it into his lips, causing her to blush slightly, opening her mouth ready to greet him. "My dearest Hermy-own-ninny," Wanting to embrace him she made a move towards him, yet she has dragged from his grasp suddenly by Ron, who scowled dangerously at him,

"You keep your fucking hands off of her!" Ron pulled her behind him sharply, pressing her into his back and drawing himself up to his fully height, sticking his chest out and into Krum's.

"I zee no issues." Viktor said flippantly, waving an arm at him superficially. To her surprise, Hermione felt her Master release her are and suddenly push Viktor backwards into the wall roughly, ignoring the smirk that was still plastered over his face, speaking low and threateningly, making a nearby suit of armour jangly and turn its head in their direction.

"Well I do. She is not yours." Viktor gave him a sudden shove back; throwing her Master aside and casually glaring back at him,

"She iz no mans. But still a man's for the taking I am thinking." He took a glance in her direction, smiling a little to try and reassure her that the situation was under control. Standing with her hands clasped in front of her chest Hermione was obviously panicking, unsure of whether she should intervene or not. Yet she was given no choice as Ron reclaimed her wrist and her entire body as she was pulled into her Master as he stood defiantly, glaring at his older counterpart.

"She's my slave. Key word, 'slave'. And you're a Pureblood. You know what that means." Her Master looked as though he were about to explode in anger and triumph, clearly under the impression that he had outdone Viktor.

"Vot should blood mean?" He glared at Ron, almost disgusted by what he was suggesting, "It makes no difference to a person's soul." Viktor glowered viciously, which Ron returned, beginning to walk away from him.

"Maybe not, but it doesn't change the law!" He shouted over his shoulder, "And it doesn't change what'll happen if you don't give up this ridiculousness!"

"She vill be safe with me. I vill take her from all zis, and I vill be the one to make er happy." Viktor shouted after him, making sure that every word was clear and concise that that Ron would hear him undoubtedly, understand what he meant fully. Stopping suddenly, Ron span both himself and Hermione around to face Viktor,

"You may have been able to take her from me last year, but you remember this, she...is mine."

~x~x~x~

"Come on then! What is it?" Ron practically slammed her into the wall by his bedside cupboard, glad that no others were presents to question the extensive noise that her back created as it connected with the cold stone. He watched her wince and squeal a little underneath him, trying to squeeze her way from him, seemingly desperate for an escape. "Tell me!" He practically screamed at her, unable to control his anger and rage any longer, demanding every detail of her life, every single second she had been witness to since she had come to the school, every man that had ever touched her.

"What? I don't understand!" Silent tears began to slip down her trembling cheeks as she stilled, hardly daring to look up at him, but still he didn't care, the fire within him burning deeply. How could she not understand? How could this insignificant slave girl not understand one thing? She was a slave. His slave. And she was ruining him.

"How can you not understand you silly little cow?" He pushed her further into the wall, so much so that she could have easily been absorbed by its structure, destined to disappear beneath it for all time, never to be recovered,

"I haven't even done anything!" She gave him a sudden large push to his chest, barely moving him an inch, despite using all of her strength. "Get off me, you selfish pig Ronald Weasley!" She rarely spoke to him in such a way, he knew how much she feared him so, knew what he could do to her. He could barely believe his ears, stepping away a little and reddening in embarrassment, allowing her body to fall to the floor in a sobbing, crumpled heap. He could see her chest falling and rising rapidly with every shuddering breath that she drew, seemingly readying herself against any attack that he may suddenly launch upon her, looking so fragile and yet defiant before him.

"Why?" He asked, his voice dangerously low and crawling, knowing that he could draw from her anything that he wanted. Glassy eyed she stared up at him, confusion set into her face, clearly under the impression that she had not offended him so, not dishonoured him, not betrayed him.

"Why...Why what? There's nothing to 'why' over." Her voice shook and wavered causing a pang of guilt from within him, a sickening churning bubbling inside his stomach that made him want to tear his eyes from her forever.

"How can you not understand...?" Ron whispered, suddenly flopping back onto his bed and turning his head from her, not wanting to even catch a glimpse of her, his heart suddenly strained and barely able to beat.

"I can't understand if you won't tell me. Master..." He heard her shuffle towards him a little, yet he pulled further away, feeling an icy sheet fall over him, hating how his title fell from her lips in that moment, wanting just to hear his name, no matter if 'pig' or 'arse' or any other insult came before it.

"Don't. You don't call him Master." His brain whirred, barely able to think as images of her together with him consumed him, making his face burn.

"What? You can't mean...Viktor? He has nothing to do with us!" Ron's head flipped back around towards her to find that she had shuffled so far forwards that she now sat right by his bed, her fingers clinging to his sheets a little, giving her the appearance of a small, starving child who wished to be let in out of the cold.

"He's everything to do with us! If it wasn't for him there'd be no issues!" He shot up where he lay, sitting up straight and staring intently down upon her, seeing her withdraw a little, before shuffling back to him defensively, "Why can't you understand that Granger?"

"There will always be issues with you!" She drew herself upwards, her fiery eyes piercing him, accusing him, "At least he respects me...he cares for me...mightn't even love me!" Something within Ron snapped, like she had pushed his self-destruct button, like she had stabbed him with a blade so deep it would pass right through him. Before he could stop himself he exploded in anger, words falling from his mouth before he could stop them,

"NO HE DOESN'T! He pities you and your worthless existence! And even if he did there can't ever be anything between you!" He could see her eyes widen and her face fall as she sank back into herself, falling flat on her bum, pushed, defeated against the floor. She looked as though she were about to cry, about to drown herself in her own tears, not wanting to be around him any longer, preferring death to being in his presence. He could barely believe in himself that he had spoken to her in such a way, no matter if she was his slave or not, her life should still have been important, especially as their situation demanded urgency, their threat, however unknown to his slave, was very, very real.

"Was he better than me?" He broke through their silence, curiosity and jealously taking hold of him suddenly, not wanting anyone to outdo him, not with her. Seeing her head twist in his direction and then tilt a little in misunderstanding, he took a deep breath, "I know that you've kissed him. And you've kissed me. Was he better?" He saw the horror dawn upon her face, realising that he had somehow seen her with Viktor and that he had purposefully kissed her that night, the night that she had longed to forget.

"You remembered? You were awake that night with Harry's dream?" She managed to force out, almost choking upon her own air, stumbling over her words.

"Of course." Seeing her eyes light in curiosity, perhaps even in hope, he drew himself back, falling rather ungracefully back onto his pillow, masking his features from her and spitting out, "You're only someone to practice on anyway. Not like you're worth kissing." Thinking only of defending his pride and his honour, lashing out at her viciously, turning his back upon her, not counting upon her taking his shoulder suddenly and ragging him back around to face him fully, eyes ablaze and filled with fury.

"How dare you..." Taking a hold of his head suddenly she drew his face into hers, crushing her lips against his, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, leaving him dazed and unsure of what was really happening. Ron could barely feel himself, his body numb and tingling, through anticipation, through lust, through utter confusion at his body's own response. All he could think was to pull her in closer which caused her to fall flat on top of him, pinning herself upwards by having her elbows either side of his head, caressing his face and hair with her hands as they kissed harshly and angrily. She stopped suddenly, and opening his eyes he saw her pull away from him, but feeling he was not done yet, Ron slipped a hand around the back of her neck, and without waiting for her permission he reunited their lips, snaking his tongue into her mouth allowing himself the pleasure of her mouth fully, oblivious to the world around him, not caring who could walk in on them potentially, ignoring the threat of any repercussions of his actions. For once he had given in, he had bared himself in front of her, knowing that she did not feel anything for him, saw him only as a slave driver, someone who had hated her because of her blood. Shame had often filled him late at night when he had lain trying to sleep, haunted by what he had done to her, just to save himself. Now he was risking her again, putting her very life in danger, as well as that of his entire family if they were to be caught. Thinking only of needing to break them apart, he was almost grateful that she pushed him away violently, scrambling from the bed and away from him, making for the heater in the centre of the room, no doubt intent upon retreating to the safety of the kitchens. Staring after her, Ron was fully aware of how she was struggling to even dare to look at him, seemingly trying to find the right words to use. Slowly lowering the lid over her head until barely any of her remained, her voice rang loud and clear throughout the room, "It's not a case of being better; it's about what feels right."

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><p><em>Japan's Arc Angel x<em>


	14. Chapter Fourteen: Servants And Sneaks

_I am a very happy chappie at such positive reviews about the last chapter, so here's another! Also, encase anyone has joined up recently, **Pottermore** is now open! As a beta tester I've been online with it a while, but now it's opened to everyone I figured I may as well start accumulating some friends :) So please feel free to add me, **WingSpirit60,** though I'll warn you, I am a Slytherin now! :D **Vitzy**, I hope this lifts your opinion upon Ginny a little, so thank you for your inadvertent advice! The rest of my reviewers, WOW! You're were so quick to comment so thank you to each and every one of you! __Happy Reading!_

__Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes :P__

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><p><span>Chapter Fourteen: Servants And Sneaks<span>

"Was he any good?" Carla shuffled forwards a little in her seat, though not looking from the large lump of cheese that she was ever so carefully inspecting for some unknown reason.

"Carla!" Cried Hermione, dropping the jug of water that she had been tightly nursing for the past hour as they had spoken over the previous night's events, not even flinching as it clattered to the floor deafeningly, ringing throughout the kitchens. "You can't say things like that!"

"And why not?" She looked over towards Hermione in confusion, clearly seeing no issue in asking such a simple question and not having any understanding of issues that it could possibly raise. "It's not like its anything special, just a kiss. I've kissed you loads of times." She shrugged happily and returned to the piece of cheese, turning it in her hands, tearing it in two and weighing each piece in her hands. Staring at her blankly, Hermione gave herself a little shake, trying to ignore her strange friend's strange behaviours in an attempt to have a serious conversation with her.

"You're not a boy!" She tried to reason with her, perhaps draw her back into a sense of reality,

"And? Are you saying I'm not a good kisser either?" Sounding highly offended by such a notion, Carla placed the cheese upon her knees and folded her arms tightly, huffing loudly and turning her nose up and away, unhappy with the possibility that she was bad at kissing.

"I'm not saying anyone is bad! I haven't bloody well snogged you! A peck on the cheek is not a tongue in the face." Hermione's face became ever more contorted, desperate to get through to Carla who seemed to have lost her brain at some point during the past few hours and was not intent upon recovering it.

"Maybe you should stop wagging your tongue about people's faces then?" Carla said sourly, trying to ignore her by focusing upon a cauldron full of soup that was busily bubbling away to itself over a large fire but a few feet from where they sat, being slowly attended to by various elves at random intervals.

"You make me sound like some kind of whore." Hermione whispered, growing ever more upset by her friend's blunt nature. At times she admired this quality, as there was no doubt to her honesty or genuineness, Hermione knew that her friend was true, and would not cause reason for doubt, ever. Yet, it was at times like these, she half wished that Carla could have been a little more sensitive with her word choice.

"Well with both your Master and Viktor, whoever next?" Carla replied flippantly, barely taking note of the hurt look that she now received from Hermione, only turning her face as she heard her gasp heavily and then glare in her direction.

"Thanks. Just thanks Carla. You know this guilt trip thing that you have? You're really really good at it." Hermione half spat, huffing to make her displeasure absolutely clear, barely believing the cheek of her friend. Suddenly, as if there had been no previous exchange, Carla's face broke into a large smile, evidently oblivious to the sarcasm dripping from her friend's voice, practically burning through the atmosphere.

"Thanks!" Clasping her hands together she grinned once more, giggling a little in happiness at receiving such a 'complement'.

"No Carla. It's not a good thing." Hermione shook her head again, clearly shocked at her friend's optimistic density, despite having been partial to it for many years previously.

"Oh...I wouldn't have said that." She began picking at her cheese once more, leaving them in silence, not knowing how to continue, or even how to think of a solution to her problems. Finally breaking their quiet interlude, Hermione added softly,

"Nothing could come of either of them any way...A Master and his slave girl, what could be more ridiculous?" She tried to give a small laugh, though it came as more of a strained gargle, not really sure as to why she should find anything funny in the slightest. There was another pause as Carla seemed to think hard to herself, debating some unusual riddle that she had been set.

"A tiger and a turtle?" She said confidently, clearly pleased with herself, ignoring Hermione's squinting eyes and dropped jaw,

"I worry for you."

"What? It's not like you've actually got any kind of feeling for either of them is it?" Carla looked at her expectantly, as if the words she had uttered were complete truth that could not be argued with. Yet, within her friend, an internal battle was being fought, her mind and heart screaming at one another. Viktor was her friend, a good friend and one that she would never want to give up. But she knew how he cared for her, knew that if she needed love, needed help or someone to lean on, Viktor would be there for her, not afraid to be with her despite her status. Yet her Master. He was something different. There was nothing between them, and there never could be even if she had wanted it. Yet she could not help herself, could not help being drawn to him, and almost enjoyed his company. She seemed to enjoy his presence in a strange way, almost enjoyed their arguments, wanted to shout at him, allow him to shout back at her. He was what she classed as a strained friend that she may have had in another time, another life, and any other feelings towards him were merely momentary, could be forgotten easily, despite how it made her stomach turn.

"I...I guess not..." They elapsed into yet more silence as the two sad, evidently in their own worlds, thinking only of their own predicaments, oblivious to anything, until a crash alerted them to a fluster Justin who had just collapsed out of the fire, obviously hysterical. "Justin? What's wrong?" He was breathing heavily, splayed upon the floor, staring up at the ceiling. "Justin!" The girls swept over towards him, kneeling over his heaving body.

"Dickens." He breathed out, sitting up slightly as the two of them pushed him upright, an Elf rushing forwards with a small cup of water.

"Wait...what? What's happened to Adam?" Hermione placed a hand upon his shoulder, suddenly nervous. She had not been particularly close to the young Hufflepuff, but she knew him well, knew his strength in both body and mind.

"Gone." Came Justin's rasping gasp and Hermione's eyes widened immediately, suddenly fully aware of what he was referring to. Yet Carla, still oblivious, asked,

"Gone where?" The reply that came caused her to gasp loudly and clap her hand to her mouth in shock,

"Taken. Master Malfoy. He's taken him." Hermione whispered, seeing Justin nod furiously at both of them. It had been inevitable, despite unbelievable. His strength and power was perfect for what Master Malfoy was looking for to keep him 'entertained', and would no doubt do so for hours on end if what Justin was saying was truth. She knew the severity of the situation, knew it did not need to be said aloud for her. Yet Carla still seemed confused, unaware that these kind of circumstances existed, Hermione having shielded her from them as often as she could, not wanting to threaten her already fragile mind and character. Carla's face contorted in confusion, trying to process the information she had just received, perhaps still reeling from Hermione's earlier declaration, unable to think of a possible reason as to why a slave would be taken by another Master.

"He...he can't do that!" She spurted out, taking her head in her hands and shaking it a little, perhaps not wanting to believe what she had been told.

"Oh yes he can..." Hermione said, looking positively horrified, staring towards the floor. Turning towards Justin, she gave him a dangerous and grievous stare, "And you know exactly what for."

~x~x~x~

She hated waiting. It was pure and simple. And she had been doing so for over two hours now by the entrance to the seventh floor corridor, trying to keep a lookout for her Master and the rest of the small group that had previously entered the Room of Requirement, intent upon defying the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts, Professor Umbridge, by practicing defensive spells and broadening their knowledge of defeating the dark arts. Though she may not have known much, she knew that there was an imminent threat over them. After the end of the previous year in which Master Harry had returned with the body of Cedric Diggory, it had secured the fear that Hermione held. She remembered how she had sat in the stands by her Master, a sudden flash of light, ready to cheer for Master Harry and his triumph in the Triwizard Tournament, and she had fallen back suddenly, dread filling her. She had held tightly to her Masters hand as she looked down towards the ground, a sobbing body accompanied by a still and lifeless one, along with the Triwizard Cup. Carla had been the first to shriek that Master Diggory was dead, igniting the crowd and sobbing violently, distraught that one of the few wizards to ever show her true kindness was now lying dead before her. She had pulled her friend into the folds of her dress to keep her safe and try to ease her pain, only to be dragged herself into Ron, who shielded them both from the horrors before them, stony faced and refusing to break his grievous stare that he had held upon Master Harry. She and Carla may have been protected from some dark knowledge, but she had always known that her enslavement had been a part of a bigger picture, something that had kept her at Hogwarts these many years, suffering as she had done so. She could not abandon her Master and friends, not leave them to the looming darkness, leaving them to watch the stars die out and their world be consumed. She hated thinking about those dark snippets she had witnessed over the past years, and tried to shake the thoughts from her and concentrate upon the task she had been set. With her bottom numbed, and her back stiffened she tried to shift a little to gain more comfort, but to no avail. She could not believe that once again she had been roped into guard duty as she had done so often, being kept out of the reach of magic but still close enough to be used as a scapegoat when her Master needed it. It had been an awkward order when it had come earlier that day; it was the first time he had spoken to her since their somewhat awkward kiss. Though he had been demanding of her, the harshness within his voice had lessened, even thanking her for placing herself in dangers way for them, though reassuring her that there should be no real issues, giving her the protection from the pain she would normally feel resonating from her earrings. She hated when he was nice to her, it caused confusion within her that she could not fathom. Did he like her? Did he feel guilty? Or was he really a kind hearted softie at his centre? He drove her insane, one minute punishing her, challenging her, the next, giving her kind favours and being nice to her. She sighed heavily, leaning back against the wall and looking towards the ceiling, trying to wipe her mind of such confusing thoughts and feelings and concentrate on her job at hand. Giving herself another stretch, she looked out and over towards the edge of the staircase, lazily looking around and down into the floors below. She stopped suddenly and then shuffled forwards a little, seeing a flash of black and green followed by a single pulse of hot pink, rushing upwards towards her. Her eyes widened erratically and she shot backwards into the wall, stumbling to her feet suddenly and clumsily, legs almost buckling, shaking like jelly. Breathing heavily, she could barely think, and bolted backwards down the corridor towards the room's hidden entrance, almost missing it and having to draw back towards it after passing it, stumbling over herself. She sprinted past thrice, her brain screaming to find her Master as urgently as possible, knowing that every second counted as time trickled away. As the door materialised, she yanked at the brass handle as hard as she could, banging the door open loudly and screaming at those inside, not caring who heard or who she offended by doing so, "GET OUT!" Silence fell over the group of assembled students who had all been brandishing their wands and were now busily trying to hide them from her, the faint wisps of past spells now evaporating into the air, disappearing from view, leaving no evidence that they had ever been there.

"GRANGER! What is the meaning of this?" Ron came storming towards her, up a brief flight of stairs up towards the door and snatched at her wrist harshly, obviously fuming with embarrassment and unaware of her panicked state. "I should have never have asked for your help." Hermione tried to pull her arm away from his, desperately struggling, forcing out a strangled cry in her defense,

"But Sir!" He gave her a large tug into him, bearing down upon her. He was visibly shaking in anger,

"Granger!" She recoiled a little, trying to hide in her apron, though knowing really that she had no escape from him, even if she so had wanted to.

"Wait!" Came a sudden cry, echoing throughout the room from an unexpected source. Ginny stepped forwards from behind Neville and looked up towards her brother and his slave, suspicious yet somehow understanding. Hermione looked over to her, pleading in her eyes to make him see sense, to make him listen to her. She could see a fire within the girl's body light as she nodded, telling Ron silently to free her, "Ron, let her talk." Giving a slow nod, Ron released her and she pulled from her Master, suddenly aware of all those staring at her impatiently.

"She...she..." Ron sighed heavily and tutted loudly, impatiently tapping his foot, clearly thinking of what he would do to her later as punishment. Rudely shouting at her she drew back, frightened almost,

"Come on...what is it?" She flinched and allowed the words to tumble from her mouth, flowing fast as water would from a rock face and into a deep chasm, "She's coming. The High Inquisitor is coming. Here. Now. With the Inquisitional Squad!" Worried murmurings broke out around them, trembling around the room as those within it turned to one another, suddenly horrified.

"Umbridge?" Harry asked from the back of the room, straightening up and looking around at the motionless, terrified people gazing at the obviously petrified slave who stood trembling by her Master. "She knows..." He said slowly, turning to a now white Ron who looked as though he could be sick at any moment. His mind suddenly snapped and he looked around to those awaiting his next order, "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" He bellowed suddenly, "RUN!" The occupants of the room all pelted towards the exit at once, forming a scrum at the door, before bursting through it manically and dispelling with urgency. Hermione could hear them sprinting along the corridors and could only hope they had the sense not to try and make it all the way to their dormitories. It was only ten to nine; if they just took refuge in the library or the Owlery, which were both nearer, then they could perhaps keep themselves safe and occupied, away from any suspicions. She watched as the room emptied and Harry threw Ginny towards the door before following himself slamming the door behind him. Glancing left and right, everyone was moving so fast that only glimpses of their flying heels at the end of the corridor could been seen as they disappeared out of sight.

"Come on!" Screamed Ron who grabbed her by the upper arm and dragged her down the corridor and around the corner, running as fast as he could and dragging her, stumbling, behind him. The pressure upon her arm was extreme, knowing that no doubt she would be left with bruises. "There's a boys bathroom up ahead." Ron panted, picking up his pace a little. She stumbled, panicking, and looked up at him bemusedly; suddenly unable to process conscious thought, feeling intoxicated.

"I can't go in there!" She tried to reason, yet he did not turn back to look at her, instead keeping his eyes fixed ahead of them.

"Of course you can't, but I can't get you caught either." He said straight, a blank look upon his face as he seemed to decide upon something indefinitely. They stopped suddenly and he wrenched open a door, shoving her violently inside.

"But this isn't..." She began turning back to face him, seeing an array of cleaning utensils around her inside the small space, yet he broke through her, urgency evident in his voice.

"It doesn't matter. If they find you, you tell I've sent you here for punishment, and don't you dare let them give you anything to drink, you don't know what's in it." She could barely take in anything he was saying, her mind a whir in overdrive, trying desperately to remember everything that he was saying.

"What?" She saw his face fall ridiculously, and slipping a hand around his neck he pulled her into him, pressing his lips to her forehead and closing his eyes tightly, reaching into his robes stealthily.

"I'm sorry about this." Lifting his wand suddenly in her direction, she recoiled in horror; barely able to comprehend what he was doing

"Wait...Ron!" She began her reasoning, barely able to think up a suitable defence before he murmured,

"Stupefy." The last thing she saw before she hit the floor was a jet of scarlet light racing towards her from the tip of his wand, the guilt evident within his eyes.

~x~x~x~

There came a loud giggle, echoing over the Common Room as Lavender Brown twirled herself from place to place, flicking her wash of dirty blond hair as far as she could and smiling wildly. Hermione was stirring feebly, her mind filled with her ridiculous shrieks and bursts of song as she came into consciousness. As her vision cleared she could see the back of her Masters head as he sat with his back to the sofa she had been laid upon, presumably having been retrieved from the cupboard at a safer, later time by the only one who knew she was there, her Master. Her voice box strained, she tried to speak, only able to gargle, and he turned around to face her. "Hermione?" Taking one of her hands, he held it and then tried to pull her head upwards a little, Ginny leaning over from the large armchair beside her and placing a pillow beneath her to try and add a little comfort. "Hermione?" He repeated, obviously wanting an answer from her, a signal that she was alright.

"Ron?" She coughed out, "Master." She saw relief wash over his face as he dropped her, turning back to his previous position and Ginny falling back into her chair.

"Ooh," He sighed heavily, "Thought I'd done some serious damage then, you've been out for hours. Though I expect never having been subjected to...that, it's to be expected."

"Are you kidding?" Asked Ginny flatly, "You brought her back and I thought you'd killed her."

"If I don't, Lavenders singing will do." He laughed a little, almost ignoring Hermione now as she attempted to sit up, pushing herself up with her elbows, swaying a little as she tried to adjust to her blurred surroundings.

"Aah!" Came a sudden squeal from behind her, and a sudden pinch to her cheek caused Hermione to jump in panic, only registering who had touched her when the other arm of the person slipped around her shoulder, a mass of hair fluttering into her face, "Sooo...the sleeping slave awakens!"

"Mistress Brown, I would kindly ask for your release." She croaked, trying to blow hair from her mouth in intervals.

"Kindly? Here this RonRon, 'kindly'. And here I was wanting to play with my future slave!" Hermione almost choked upon her own air, which was further emphasised by the head lock Lavender now had her in, cutting off her oxygen supplies as she swung her head from side to side despite her inaudible protests.

"Oi. Don't go getting your hopes up. This is my future too, nothing's been decided yet. And she's my slave, I'm not sharing her." Came his sudden reply, not even bothering to look back at them as he did so.

"What?" Hermione stared at the back of his head intently, threatening to burn a hole in the back of his head in an attempt to make him turn towards her.

"Oh shut up you!" Lavender said overly sweetly, mocking Hermione whilst trying to keep herself sounding as perfect as she could.

"Don't you be speaking to her like that!" Ginny cut in suddenly; almost a little surprised that she had allowed herself to speak in such a way about her brother's servant, instead trying to find a suitable excuse. "If you'd kindly bugger off, we have thing to discuss. Private things! And you're clouding the air with your ghastly perfume!" Lavender straightened her back indefinitely and stuck her chest out as far as she could do. With a loud huff and a squeal that could only remind Hermione of a pig in labour, she turned with a flick of her hair and flounced off towards a group of girls that stood a few feet from them but still out of earshot. "Mum must be absolutely mad." Ginny sighed, eyeing the once more giggling girl with distaste. "I'd rather you be with bloody Granger and snogging her at all times of the day..." She said sourly.

"That girl...is a disgrace to magical blood." Ron spat, clearly not even wanting Lavender's name to grace his lips, "And we're not going that far. At least she has good blood." Perhaps reconsidering his previous statement in favour of a new one. Yet Ginny cringed ridiculously,

"What use is good blood when you've got that kind of personality?" Looking from him, she retched seemingly uncontrollably, showing her obvious disgust in the girl.

"What did she mean?" Hermione suddenly asked, having been sat still in a state of semi shock for a few moments whilst the exchange took place, clearly not listening to a word of it, "Are you selling me?"

"Can we even do that?" Ron joked, earning a giggle from Ginny, though Hermione did not find it amusing in the slightest. A loud huff alerted them to Harry's arrival as he dredged in through the portrait hole, "Harry?" Ginny moved from her chair, shuffling Hermione along, allowing Harry to sit where she had just vacated.

"Dumbledore's gone, took credit for it all. It was that Marietta. Ingenious idea Hermione." He said breathlessly, barely able to string a sentence together freely and fully, simply staring at the carpet that lay before him.

"It worked then?" She asked cautiously, not daring to believe that her suggestion of jinxing the paper they had all signed themselves to secrecy on could have possibly worked.

"Yeah, 'SNEAK' straight across the middle of her face." He gave a small laugh, but returned to his stony state almost immediately.

"Er...Granger...Upstairs and sort my bed out will you, make it warm for when I'm up there." Ron said suddenly, giving Harry a hasty look, expecting her to move. But she simply sat, confused, unsure of whether she should actually move or not. Yet he spoke once more, a little more urgently this time, "Now! Or I will sell you to Lavender!" Eyes widening she stood suddenly,

"Yes Sir!" She cried, running from the room and up the stairs towards her Master's bedroom. Slamming the door behind her she winced, noting how the other four occupants of the room were already inside their beds, tucked up with their curtains drawn. Hoping to not have disturbed them she silently slipped onto Ron's bed and began rubbing the covers, her idea of warming them, not able to think of any other possible way. Yet an idea struck her, one that made her smile a little, and she slowly pulled back his covers, climbed in and slipped them back over herself.

~x~x~x~

It was warm inside her Master's bed, warmer than she had been in a long time. As her eyes fluttered open she could barely believe that she had fallen asleep, having before had the full intent of climbing back out when she heard him arrive. Yet her she was, tucked up tight, yet propped up against something very hard, yet very warm, that also seemed to smell strangely of lemongrass. A warm arm suddenly slipped over her from behind and placed itself over her own, clasping her hand tightly as it lay close by her head. She froze, pinching herself with her free other hand to check that she wasn't still asleep. She could remember that aroma, remember the freckles and hair of that arm, knew who belong to such a long body that was now curled around the back of her own. Her chest felt as though it were about to explode. He had done so many good deeds for her this day, more so than he had done in their five years put together; it was almost scary for her to think about. She didn't know whether to cry with fear or happiness, though she knew for certain that she was glad that she had someone that would hold her until morning, perhaps make her feel as a normal teenage girl should, even if it was only under the cover of darkness, so that no other would know their secret. Yet she couldn't help but think he only saw her as his hot water bottle, something for comfort since he had no other, perhaps none that were willing or none that did not repulse him so. He was stuck with her regardless of whether he made use of her or not. The option for her to leave him had arisen many times as he shifted subtly, but she could not bring herself to move from him. Instead, she pressed her back into his bare chest and snuggled down deep, covering herself in the various wrappings of his sheets, trying to get as comfy as she possibly could, allowing her lids to sag once more, and dragging her back into sleep. "Hermione." Came a whisper and her eyes shot open again. "I know you're listening." He backed away from her a little, allowing her to fall onto her back, looking up at him, barely able to see his features in the darkness, a little of his ginger hair filtering through with the moonlight. "You do know that there's nothing between us don't you?" She nodded, though suddenly remembered that he probably couldn't see her movements,

"There could never and will never be anything between us." A long silence followed this, in which never spoke, and only listened to the sound of one another's light and delicate breathing.

"As long as you have that understanding then. You're just my play thing." She recoiled a little, being referred to as a 'thing' with which he simply 'played', though really she could not have expected any more from her Master, after all, that's what he was, her Master. She a slave, and powerless, meant only to do her Masters bidding and conform to his wishes. So when his lips touched hers she found herself unable to object, accepting him fully, even as her moved on top of her and pressing her into the bed, almost crushing her. She had not expected him to be so heavy, yet she cared not, feeling already intoxicated by him, not feeling at all embarrassed or ashamed that she was a slave girl with her Master, or that her dress had hitched its way up to her thighs, or indeed that she was kissing a man who was clearly not interested in her in the slightest. Instead she felt free, as if nothing else mattered but that one moment in time, and was almost saddened as he left her, spinning her back into her previous position, re-covering her and saving her dignity. "This cannot happen again." She felt her elation dip, slightly confused, not sure what to make of his words, "You'll be on the floor again from now on. You can't keep doing this to me again and again." Her eyes opened once more, almost fearful of the hidden meaning he was trying and failing to portray to her. She couldn't help feeling slightly sickened. Even though she was used to sleeping on the floor, she could not think what it was that she could possibly be doing to him. All she wanted was a comfy bed, someone to sleep next to, to know that she would always be safe in the night, no matter what was awaiting her. Yet here, at Hogwarts, she could not find this. This was something that she would have to leave the school for and return to normal life with her parents, living as a Muggle. Inside she wondered however, she could never really get the man that she wanted these experiences with, a man of magic, and a man of her understanding, someone that shared her loves, her passion, and her drive. Hogwarts was the place in which she would stay, in the hope that she could overturn the rule that had been placed over her and live out her life as a witch, a wizard supporting her through life, never to leave her side.

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><p><em>Japan's Arc Angel x<em>


	15. Chapter Fifteen: Dilemma

_So happy to announce that after this there are only five chapters left before completion :D and thank you so so much for sticking with me this far all of you wonderful reviewers! I write this for you and I hope you enjoy it as the ending draws nearer. Obvious scenes will be arising from the original book, but with my own personal twist and of course Hermione's too! On another note, yaaay to peoples who have Pottermore! Let me know what house you're in and your name so I know who I'm adding ;) Happy reading people, and **LettuceBFrank**, you must be part psychic!_

__Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes :P__

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><p><span>Chapter Fifteen: Dilemma <span>

Her face felt extremely cold and numb as she groaned, stirring feebly, not wanting to rouse from her slumber, wishing to remain inside her own world, in her dreams where she could live her life happily and away from the ever impending turmoil she felt being at Hogwarts."Hermione?" Came a distant voice, sounding far away and muffled, barely audible to her sleeping brain. "Hermione!" The voice repeated, and with a sudden yank, she was dragged violently backwards into a sitting position. "What are you doing?" Kevin broke through, looking at her ridiculously.

"Wha...?" She managed to blubber out, blinking furiously.

"Why was your face inside the sink?" She shook herself a little and looked around her. She was still in the kitchens, just as she had been previously that night when she had entered, late and covered in blankets that needed washing urgently. The last thing she remembered was scrubbing them ferociously, only to wake up still on the floor, blankets in hand and surrounded by water and bubbles. No wonder her face had seemed so cold, had drawn her from her sleep so violently, along with Kevin's deafening voice.

"I...oh...yeah...Master's been throwing up all night." She pulled a disgusted face, a little bile rising in her throat just thinking about it. She had never been able to handle illness in other people, could barely stand it when she herself was ill, never mind her Master whom she had to care for whether he was well or not.

"That would explain that delightful smell you're exuding." Kevin shuffled from her a little, his nose turning upwards. Glaring at him slightly she folder her arms tightly, before then wiping her face down, trying to warm it a little and remove the soap suds from her hair by patting it down.

"Thanks. Don't try and make me feel attractive will you?" Kevin chuckled at her, helping to remove further bubbles by stroking her hair, reaching around to the front of her dress, and into her apron, pulling out a large comb which he knew she kept there for when Carla became entangled in her own hair. Pulling her sideways a little, he shuffled onto a chair, slowly beginning to brush her hair for her whilst she chuckled at him, "Oh you...I'm meant to smell wonderful all of the time!"

"Surely you'd rather I be truthful about your foulness? I'm surprised I'm not dead right now." She spun her head in an attempt to scowl at him, yet it soon turned into a smile as he held up her hair in apologies, seeming to have lost the comb within it. Taking her hair she gave it a tug, the comb falling free, and she resumed brushing it herself, shuffling round to face him.

"It'd be one less thing to be confused over I guess..." Her face contorted a little, causing him to frown, seemingly trying to think what she could possibly be indicating.

"How do you mean? Is it Viktor?" He asked almost obviously, not bothering to sugar coat any of their conversation. She knew why, there was no point in trying to hide anything from Kevin; she was too open to him, to giving. He had always been able to draw things from her, particularly matters that she held deep within her, emotionally. She had last broken down to him the previous year after being accused by journalist Rita Skeeter of trying to steal the heart of both Master Harry and Viktor, by having her name publically dragged through the dirt in various newspaper articles. "That horrible woman. She doesn't care, does she, anything for a story, and anyone will do, won't they?"She remembered crying into his shoulder that day, refusing to go to her Master over the situation for fear of mockery.

"In a way...no...yes? I don't even know." She finally breathed, her mind whirring, not really knowing how to answer him, instead allowing her shoulders to sag in sadness. Kevin's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but one rose again afterwards,

"If it's that git of a Master..." He began, the blood rushing to his head as his hands began to twitch slightly. Yet he was cut off by a loud coughing sound coming from behind them by the exit of the kitchens.

"If you'd be so kind as to bugger off, the sister of her git of a Master would greatly appreciate it." The two of them span around hastily and Hermione shot to her feet in fear and surprise,

"Mistress!" She cried, louder than she had intended, quickly looking from Ginny to Kevin and then back to the ginger haired girl before them. There was a moment silence as Kevin and the few House Elves around them fell quiet and received various glares from the youngest Weasley child. He looked to Hermione, who gave him a small nod, to which he stood and grasped her arm, lightly squeezing it,

"I'll see you later, Hermione..." Letting her go he walked sheepishly over towards the fireplace, giving her one last look, before disappearing in a whirl of blue fire. Hermione looked back towards Mistress Weasley, shuffling a little where she stood, uncomfortable and unsure of what to say. Yet she needed not, as Ginny spoke to her first.

"Now. We need to talk I think. This has gone on long enough." Confusion crashed into Hermione's face, crushing her features with fear and anticipation, causing her to draw back a little, pushing her back accidentally and painfully into a hook that was jutting out of the wall behind her, usually used for hooking various utensils onto.

"I...I don't understand." She stuttered out, earning a distasteful look from her counterpart who looked around rapidly.

"Is there somewhere we can go? These things need not be overheard." Hermione gave a long slow nod and then turned on the spot,

"Um...yeah...sure..." Walking to the other side of the kitchen, closely followed by Ginny. As she reached the small set of tables and chairs Hermione waited for her to sit, before drawing the curtains around them tightly. As she sat she squirmed a little as Ginny gazed at her from across the small table, seemingly unable to decide how to start. She gave a heaving sigh and then slapped her hands onto the table,

"Look, you're a nice enough girl but you have to stop this. And now." She said definitively, as if it were the most casual of things to say in the universe. Yet she could not think for herself, what the young girl could have been referring to, unless she had someone discovered her few chaste kisses with her Master, which she had hoped to have kept private. Panic began to rise in her stomach for the thought of the consequences she would suffer for tasting the lips of her Master. Trying desperately to calm herself, she slipped out,

"I don't understand." Something seemed to snap inside Ginny, and her mouth opened, words spilling from her mouth quicker than she had anticipated.

"Look Granger, he's my brother, and I love him very much. He may not know it, but I do, he's starting to like you. Maybe not romantically, but at least as a friend, and it's putting him in danger. It's putting my entire family in danger." She stopped herself suddenly, looking a little surprised that she had lost control so suddenly, composing herself once more. Taking a shaking breath she continued a little quieter than before, "Hermione. Please. I can't let my family come to harm." Hermione could barely think, her brain whirring, barely able to comprehend how she could have caused such damage without even realising what she had been doing. Not realise how much danger she had placed not only herself in, but also her Master and his family, for her own selfish reasons. Trying to create some kind of justice for herself, she began,

"But...I haven't...I don't want to cause any-" Yet she was cut off as Ginny hissed at her with urgency,

"Well you are! Stop encouraging him, you're ruining his life. I saw how Malfoy looked at you, that night at our house, and I know what he was thinking." Hermione was instantly taken aback by this statement, not exactly understanding what she could have meant. To her, she had received the look of death, as if the young Master Malfoy would take great pleasure in slowly torturing her to death rather than ending her life with a whip of his wand.

"Master Malfoy? I don't even know him." Ginny rolled her eyes and tucked her arms into one another, clearly exasperated and on edge.

"You know of him. That's enough. Now you stop this stupid flirting with my brother, or you'll regret it." She stood up abruptly, the chair scraping backwards as she looked around uncomfortably. She walked towards the curtain and drew it back, ready to exit,

"But-" Hermione spun around, about to resume her defence, yet Ginny spoke once more, in a hushed tone, not even looking back at her brothers slave, perhaps from fear or from shame, which she was not sure.

"Look. I kept your secret once. Even returned your stupid earring so you wouldn't get caught. But I won't be doing it again." The curtain fell and she left Hermione to stare open mouthed after her, her breathing dragged out and rattling, panic setting in once more. She had been so sure that it had been Master Harry who had figured out that she had secretly attended the dance, not Mistress Ginny, not the Weasley child who apparently despised her the most out of the entire family. Yet she had kept her secret, had faithfully kept her life safe and unexposed, and had not even outed her to her Master. For a moment she felt the youngest of the Weasley children had given her a precious gift of kindness, showing her well hidden compassion and caring that undoubtedly only her family were ever witness to. Giving a small hesitant smile, she fidgeted a little before standing, composing herself, and then following back out into the kitchen.

~x~x~x~

"Go fetch me juice." Ron demanded instantaneously, practically throwing his goblet at Hermione, who dived for it before it hit the floor with an almighty echoing ring. She had been stood behind him, waiting patiently for him to finish his evening meal, in which he had ferociously stuffed himself silly and was continuing to do so with no signs of letting up any time soon. His head suddenly snapped around, cheeks full to bursting as he looked at her confusedly, "Nowf!" A splatter of green mush flew from his mouth, flecks splattering the hem of her dress. She looked down to it distastefully and then back toward him, only to be met with the back of his head as he turned away casually, clearly more interested in repiling his mountain of food. Giving a loud huff she smashed down the goblet onto the table beside him, yet he took no notice of the crashing nor of Crookshanks' hiss at the noise whilst he was busily sat by Ginny eating a strip of chicken with rather messy consequences. Her Master did not even move as she picked up the empty pitcher and pulled it towards her, centimetres from colliding with his head. Her nose twitched at his ridiculous priorities and then she span around on the spot, intent on making her way towards the great double doors in order to refill the jug for him. Yet blocking her way stood a familiar long haired girl who smiled sickeningly at her.

"And me!" Lavender giggled, pushing her own goblet into Hermione's face as hard as she could, creating a small 'ding' as it hit her teeth. Snatching it out of her hand, Hermione glared as Lavender shoved Harry further up the table so that she could squeeze in next to Ron. Harry gave her a dishevelled look, whilst Ginny stared across the table at her in disgust, as though she could quite happily take her fork and plunge it into Lavender's neck. "What are you waiting for slave? Off you go!" Slipping an arm around Ron's who was furiously stabbing at a large slab of meat, she suctioned herself to him, refusing to let go no matter how he shook himself.

"Don't you dare get anything for her." He hissed, glaring at the girl and then up at Hermione, who backed away a little before coming back and placing the other goblet beside his on the table. Yet a sudden waft of hair smacked her in the face as Lavender span around herself, grimacing slightly as though she were trying to smile but was too furious to do so,

"You had better, or I'll make you, and your family, very very sorry!" Hermione flinched a little, gritting her teeth at the girl, less than impressed with her threat, wondering what she could possibly have done to her. Deciding not to retort she promptly turned her back and stomped away, walking the short distance to refill the jug, highly tempted to spit into Mistress Lavender's goblet out of pure spite. Yet she could not even bring herself to that, instead allowing her anger to fester as she trudged back towards her Master, staring down and slapping her feet loudly upon the floor, earning a few disgusted stares from the Masters and Mistresses around her. Lavender saw her approaching and broke into a large, patronising smirk and then waiting until she had come close before patting her upon the head as if she were a dog. "Who's a good girl?" She said, her voice annoyingly high pitched and condescending. Hermione gave a sudden twitch and whipped her head up to scowl at her, barely able to control herself and allowing herself to hiss spitefully and viciously before she could stop herself,

"Be grateful I don't smack you with this." Lavender's jaw dropped in shock as she eyed the obviously heavy and considerably full pitcher, oblivious to the smile that had suddenly broken out over Ron's face as he turned to Hermione and winked at her, causing her to blush ridiculously as she quickly slammed the pitched onto the table, a little of the pumpkin juice sloshing out and onto the table.

"How dare you, you insignificant little tramp!" Gripping Ron's arm tighter with one arm she swung her other out towards Hermione and took her sharply by her loosely hanging hair, dragging her forwards and pushing her face into her own. Speaking with a sudden vicious tone, she dropped her voice dangerously low, her words practically dripping with venom, "You! You ugly girl! You...you...you disgusting, stupid-"

"Oi!" Ron cut in suddenly, glaring at Lavender who had fallen silent under his authoritative tone, not wanting to anger him, but desperate to carry on her rampage and prove herself as a Mistress. Turning back into her sweet child-like form she cuddled back into his side, her head resting upon his shoulder,

"But RonRon. She insulted me!" She squealed, sounding highly offended, batting her eyelashes furiously, pressing herself into him and refusing to let up her vice-like grip upon him. Yet it was Ginny who replied, clearly wanting to rid the table of the airy girl who had crashed into their peaceful meal.

"Shut it _LavLav_. It would bring me great pleasure if your face would connect sharply with that jug." She gave a twisted smile, eyeing Hermione playfully, seeming as though she was almost willing her to take up the pitcher once more and ram it into the side of Lavender's head. Yet the girl shrieked loudly once more at Ron in disgust, almost begging him to defend her,

"Ronnie! Tell her RonRon! She's being mean to me!" Looking as though she were about to cry Ron sighed heavily and put down his cutlery and took both of her hands in his, looking at her sincerely and earning a wide and grateful smile from her,

"She's being truthful." He dropped her hands suddenly and began eating once more, ignoring her and her sudden realisation that his earnestness had been false and demeaning. Yet he seemed to rethink himself, adding, "But, Granger, stop being a cow and just get pouring, I can't be dealing with all of this women hassle." Hermione smiled a little at the lightness of his voice, and began to fill his goblet, and then pouring a little into a bowl for Crookshanks, even offering to fill up Mistress Lavenders goblet for her. Yet the girl whipped her head around and gave Hermione a hard shove away from her, sticking her nose into the air, not caring that the remainder of the pumpkin juice was now soaking into Hermione's clothing.

"Go away you vile creature!" She spat, sipping her juice contently, muttering loud enough to be heard by only those closest to her, "Filthy Mudblood." Hermione immediately reacted, lifting her arm ready to throw the jug into the back of her head. She could accept her Master and his family saying such hurtful things to her, making her feel disgusting and worthless, she had stayed and signed up for such treatment. Yet from a silly little girl who was far too stuck up for her own good, she could not accept such criticism. Ginny saw her ready to strike and suddenly addressed her directly, causing her to flinch and lower her arm quickly,

"Hermione! Can you go upstairs for me, fetch my books?" There was a moment's pause as Hermione tried to register what had just been asked of her, realising that her Master's sister was saving her from her own actions.

"Yes Mistress." She gave a little bow and began moving away, ready to exit the hall, only to catch Lavender's last sly remark in her direction,

"Bye bye Mudblood!" There came a sudden piercing squeal followed by a shriek, "Aaah! Get this grubby being off of me!" She spun around, only to be greeted by Lavender throwing her body backwards and forwards manically, a large orange blob securely attached to the top of her head. Hermione placed a hand over her mouth in horror, crying out,

"Crookshanks!" Running forwards, she had intended upon dragging the animal from her before he did too much damage in his defending of Hermione. She had half expected even her Master to step in and free Lavender, yet he simply chuckled and nudged Harry, who smiled gleefully. "Stop! Bad cat! BAD CAT! BAD CROOKSHANKS!" Hermione cried, fearing for the repercussions of his behaviour both for him and herself as the room broke out into random fits of giggles and various bouts of mockery. All she could think was of what her Master could possibly do to her for such a show her pet had caused at dinner, full of embarrassment, regardless of whether it was aimed at a clingy and childish girl whom he could not shake or not.

"Ooh! I'm going to strangle you, you mangy, scraggly rat!" Screamed Lavender, earning another roar of laughter from the rest of the hall, who were whooping and jeering manically in her direction. As Hermione reached her Master, ready to snatch her half Kneazle and run for her life, Ginny had already jumped over the table in one swift movement and was baring down over Lavender,

"You most certainly will not!" She gently took the cat from her head, who ceased his screeching almost immediately, and began purring, wrapping himself around Ginny's shoulders, and then leaning across and licking Hermione's now flustered cheek. "Who do you think you are, you silly little girl?" Ginny suddenly took hold of Hermione's upper arm and began walking away from a seething Lavender and a highly confused Ron and Harry who were sat gaping open mouthed at the fiery young red head and clearly confused brunette. She stopped only to look back at Lavender one last time, her voice like acid, burning through the air in her direction, "There's no wonder your father can't wait to get rid of you."

~x~x~x~

The morning had taken a cold turn from the rays of the rest of the week that had passed in a warm haze in previous days, the tall wooden bookshelves and the cold stone walls of the library only aiding the cold further as Hermione sat huddled into her long dress, perched upon a hard wooden chair, watching her Master scribbling away furiously, his quill flicking by his long nose, causing it to twitch every so often, making her smile at his cute little mannerisms. Master Harry meanwhile was staring lazily at the book in front of his, his eyes unfocused and unclear as his face fell forwards into it."Blaaah!" He spurted suddenly, rolling his head from side to side without removing his forehead for the book in front of him. "What even is this? It makes no sense!" Practically crying, he looked over to Ron, whose face suddenly fell to match his, sobbing,

"I've rewritten the first line fourteen times now." Holding up this parchment, Hermione could just make out variations of the same sentence over and over again down the page with great gashing lines through each of them.

"We have no hope..." Harry sighed defeated, not even wanting to look at the pages of his book, never mind research any of its contents to put into his essay. "And I'm seriously wanting to become an Auror you know." Leaning back in his chair, Ron let out a huge sigh, a small smile upon his face as his mind drifted to the future, thinking of the possibility of becoming a Dark Wizard Catcher, working as part of an elite team for the Ministry of Magic.

"Wouldn't be a bad job mate, but it means getting through this shitting Potions crap first." Looking back towards his parchment, he let out a strangled cry, giving a fake lament as he pushed it into his face in anger and frustration.

"There's no way Snape would let us in though, not without getting an Outstanding in our O.." Harry pointed out, "Almost makes me wish I was Carla, and only had to worry about keeping my socks clean." He chuckled a little at the thought of actually having to sort out his own clothes.

"We could scrape an Exceeds Expectations?" Ron reasoned, his imagination suddenly running away with him, "Then bump him off and suck up to his replacement." Harry snorted, imagining the triumph of shoving his Potions Master off of a cliff, only to be heartbroken as he levitated back up towards them, an eighteen inch homework essay for him in tow.

"I wish. But it's not good enough."

"What...in the hell...do I use Spines of Lionfish for?" Ron cried, crushing the parchment in his hands in anger, muttering furiously before throwing it to the floor and then standing upon it ferociously.

"It's used in Wiggenweld Potions, and most common Herbicides." Hermione muttered quietly from where she sat, not bothering to look up at them as she spoke, "It you're doing homework on Herbicides, I would have thought you'd have naturally assumed that's what it was for." Her voice was barely audible, yet both boys stared at her amazedly. After a pause, Ron said quietly, almost not wanting himself to be heard,

"Thanks." The boys lapsed into silence once again, ignoring Hermione as she rocked backwards and forwards feverishly, shaking a little from the cold, thinking of the job that she had to do, the things she had to sort, all without the knowledge of her Master. She coughed lightly, and Ron looked up towards her quizzically, seemingly almost unsure of whether he should respond to her.

"Er, I'm going to find Carla." She stumbled over her words a little, her insides shaking, hating herself for lying to her Master, but still hoping beyond hope that he would believe her and allow her to leave without question.

"Oh?" He simply replied, looking a little hurt that she was leaving, squashing her insides into a small a space as possible.

"I haven't seen her in a while actually. Make sure she hasn't drown in her own fluids won't you Hermione?" Chipped in Harry, removing the sudden pressure that Hermione had felt, opening her up a little and making her feel better about her situation and obligations towards other people.

"Yes Master Harry. Though there is a slight chance she's already dead floating in them." She stood up and then pushed her chair underneath the table, walking away from them. As she was about to round the edge of the bookcase, her Master called out towards her,

"Don't be long 'Mione!" She stopped suddenly at his flippant remark, one hand on the bookcase she was about to round, the other holding her chin in confusion and she turned her head towards him, even though his head had turned back towards his parchment.

"Yes Sir." She replied lightly, before stepping out of his line of view. Breathing a sigh of relief she began to walk hurriedly towards the Grand Staircase, almost sprinting down its steps and towards the third floor. Running down the corridor, she came to a stop outside a statue of Gunhilda of Gorsemoor and whispered, "Dissendium." Opening the hump on the statue, which she climbed into, falling down a small slide and out into an open passageway. A huddled figure caught her attention, "Viktor!" She was suddenly engulfed by a pair of strong arms as he pulled her into his chest tightly.

"Hermy-own-ninny!" Pushing back from him, she hung her head, almost not wanting to look at him out of embarrassment and shame from their previous encounter including her Master.

"I'm so sorry!" She breathed, feeling their terrible meeting her fault, not wanting him to think badly of her because of her Masters behaviour, no matter how flattered she had felt by his over protectiveness which some would see as possessiveness. Placing his hands upon her shoulders he leant his forehead against hers, with his eyes closed tightly, putting her in a rather awkward position, wanting to move away, yet finding her body unresponsive to her brains commands.

"It iz not your fault. Weasley has issues I am thinking." He said slowly, opening his eyes again as she stood back from him. She suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable, remembering how she had guiltily lied to her Master, now going against his desires of her no longer seeing him. Their secret meeting racked her with remorse and shame, finally managing to stutter out,

"You realise, I can't see you anymore?" There was another pause, as Viktor seemed to have an internal battle between sadness and anger, debating which response he should give.

"Vy must you do this to us?" He finally asked, trying to take her hand, but she pulled it away, not allowing her to touch him for fear she would retract her statement.

"It's not only for me. You know what I am. And you know what you are." She said defiantly, knowing that she was speaking the truth, and that their relationship needed to come to an end.

"I care not!" Viktor moved towards her once more, making a grab for her, a little angrier than before, causing her to flinch,

"I care! I'm sorry Viktor; I'll always care for you though. We just can't be." Turning from her, he slammed his fists into the wall, breathing heavily, scaring her a little as she backed away into the opposite wall. Yes she knew of his strength, she knew of the fight he possessed within him, yet she did not desire to ever see it. Hoped that he would kept it hidden when it was not needed, as not to show his darker side, scare her from him.

"I'll take you as my own slave then! I bargain for you? Buy you; I know is family iz ver poor." She was taken aback by his abruptness and his accusations, portraying her Master as poor. He was a Pureblood, and she knew that all Pureblood families were interconnected, all rich and supportive of one another. Yet she was shocked more by his treatment of her, suggesting that she could be bought and sold as a possession, a material object that could just as easily be thrown away.

"I am not a prize to be won, bought or sold!" Looking as though she were about to cry, she barely let him speak,

"But-" Cutting across him again, she attempted to make herself heard loud and clear, wanting to make him understand,

"No! He's my Master, and I'm his slave. It will stay that way." There came another long pause in which he simply stared at her, before breaking through as he moved back towards the entrance of the passageway as the slide melted into a set of stairs.

"This iz not the last off it." He began to climb out of sight, leaving her alone in the dark, giving out a sudden large sigh of relief, grabbing onto her hair and pushing it back into her head. Taking a large, deep breath, she followed him upwards and out of the statue, leaning back onto it. Looking upwards and breathing heavily she calmed herself, and then patted herself down, Viktor waiting patiently in front of her.

"I vould you know. I vould pay so much, joost so I haff the power to set you free." He nodded as she looked at him cautiously, eyeing him as walked away from her, leaving her to hang her head in deep thought. Straightening herself once more she sniffed upwards and gulped loudly,

"I'd better go and actually find her," She mumbled to herself, knowing that she had to at least attempt to cover her tracks a little, getting Carla to support her story. Scuttling down the corridor she was completely oblivious to her Master, who suddenly stepped out from where he had been perched upon a window ledge, hidden out of sight, listing to the remainder of their conversation, his face burning scarlet in anger and embarrassment.

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><p><em>Japan's Arc Angel x<em>


	16. Chapter Sixteen: The King

_Wow, we're just so so close, I can't stop writing, especially now this is officially a Novel! So I'll release a new chapter every time I hit seven reviews for the previous one! I'll say, here my next chapter already, just four more to go :D Thank you, you lovely people who are still with me at this late stage, much lovage!_

_As a personal message to** Hilary**, apologies, chapter 13 was a typo (though I don't know how) and has been corrected! There will only be 20 chapters. As for the second issue of the genre of this fiction, it was changed due to my decision that they were too young at this point to enjoy any full romantic feelings, which prompted the decision to write two sequels, the first of which I'm proud to announce I've already begun work on! This may or may not be romance, I haven't fully decided yet, but I can promise that the third installment, in line with Deathly Hallows will DEFINITELY be filled with loads more romance between our favorite couple! I hope this clears things up for you, and you'll stick with me and my fiction until then! If not, thanks for the support this far and happy reading :)_

_Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes :P_

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><p><span>C<span>hapter Sixteen: The King

"Did you find her then?" Ron was lying upon his bed, facing up towards the canopy above him, staring at it intently, glaring, fiery eyed.

"Sir?" Hermione looked up at him confusedly from the floor where she was busily collecting his shoes and robes together, of which he had tossed lazily upon the floor as he had entered the room, leaving a crumpled mess for her to clear.

"Carla. You know the one you went looking for?" He sat up suddenly and swung his legs around the side of the bed, pulling his shirt rather acrimoniously out of his trousers and loosening his tie a little.

"Oh...Er no. Couldn't find her anywhere." Hermione shifted herself a little, placing her back towards him, pretending to busy herself with relacing his shoes, even though they did not need doing.

"You checked thoroughly did you?" He asked her, his voice sounding dangerous as he glared at her.

"Um...yes?" Her insides were beginning to shake violently, her stomach threatening to reject its contents as she tried to speak in her normal, confident tone, hoping that her Master would drop the conversation. A sudden whipping sound caught her attention as he dragged his tie from around his neck and held it taught in his hands, staring over at her threateningly.

"Where?" Almost frozen in her place, she managed to strain out,

"The usual places." She hoped to avoid his questions further, wondering how his attitude had changed so vastly since that morning in the Library.

"I said...where?" He repeated himself, almost as a deadly whisper.

"Um, the kitchens," She blurted out, panic having set in fully, "The bathroom. Here of course-" Counting places off on her fingers, trying to make herself seem convincing.

"Then how is it that you did not find her?" He stuck across her, cutting her speech in two, leaving her mouth gaping wide. He stood up, his tie still taught in his hands, and walked over to her, kneeling by her side, obviously aware of her suddenly flushed face.

"S-sir?" She mumbled as he put his arms over her head, his tie looping the back of her neck tightly as he dragged her ever closer towards his face.

"She was here when I returned, had been for hours. I even sent her to find you herself. So how is it that you missed her?" He asked, almost flippantly, watching her head shift downwards her eyes glued to her hands. She was struggling desperately now, her chest tight and heaving, knowing that the game was up for her,

"I...I...Master, I-"

"I can tell you exactly why." He gave his tie a yank and her face crashed into his shoulder, yet he ignored this, instead taking her chin in one hand and dragging her so that her eyes faced his directly, "You went to see him again didn't you? Tell me the truth, NOW!"

"What?" Her head exploded in pain as her earrings practically shot her, sending shock waves coursing through her entire body, towards her fingertips and toes. Unable to control herself, she shoved him as hard as she could, falling backwards in a crumpled heap," NO!"

"Oh but you did. I saw everything. Think you can get away from me that easily do you?" He made a grab for her wrist and dragged her back into him, squeezing her as hard as he could, seeing her squirm.

"It's not even like that!" She was sobbing slightly, not wanting him at all to misunderstand her intentions. She did not and had never wanted to leave him, yet she knew he would not believe her. Not know that she had betrayed him.

"Then what is it like Hermione? Tell me now, I'm dying to know." Another blast of pain and she was full on crying in front of him, something she had never wanted to do again, knowing he was seeing her weak and fragile. Taking large dragging breaths, she managed to squeeze out,

"I was saying we can't meet any more!" Yet even her tears and her pleading could not quash his anger. He faltered only temporarily, seeming to argue with himself as to whether he was in his right to treat her in such a way, or whether he had some redemption at reducing her to tears for her betrayal.

"Oh, but it's perfectly alright for him to buy you from me is it?" Trying desperately to drag her upwards, supporting her entire body weight as she was collapsing under herself, unaware of the internal pain she was feeling, considering her a ridiculously overactive hypochondriac.

"I said it to him, and I'll say it to you. I'm yours! I'm not going to be bought by anyone! I WANT to stay with you!" He flinched suddenly, backing away from her and letting her fall away from him. His face was pale and gaunt, drenched in shock, disgust or regret, perhaps all of them as she stared up at him, watery eyed and sniffling slightly. No longer able to look at her, his eyes shifted from side to side, his mouth opening and closing slightly, clearly trying to ignore her now silent piercing gaze, her cheeks still shining with her tears. Dragging a hand through his ruffled hair he exhaled deeply and made a sudden rush for the door. Dragging it open, he was surprised to see a shocked Harry in front of him, having just been about to open the door himself.

"Alright mate? Where did you rush off to?" He asked innocently as Ron pushed his way past, only pausing slightly as Harry pushed passed him simultaneously.

"Nowhere. Just needed to sort some stuff." Looking to the floor, he seemed to make a sudden decision, turning back to face the room, looking past Harry who was looking at him bemusedly, and to Hermione, whose eyes were still burning into him. Speaking darkly, he coarsely croaked, "You are forbidden from speaking to him ever again. You dare to disobey me, and you will wish you had never learnt of the qualities of magic. I am not losing anyone else." With that he slammed the door behind him, leaving both of them confused. Wiping her eyes a little, she turned to Harry as he crossed the room to his bed, throwing his bundle of books onto his duvet,

"Anyone else? I don't understand." Looking around at her, seemingly unsure if she was speaking aloud or addressing him directly. Deciding upon the latter, he chose not to look at her, instead speaking into his bed.

"Fred and George. They've left. Blew up the Great Hall earlier today after the Charms exam." Silence enveloped them as she crawled over to her Master's bed and scuttled up onto it, gathering the sheets around her a little as she tucked her knees under her chin.

"He's not lost them though, not really." She whispered, barely audible to Harry, who strained to catch her words fully. Straightening himself up, he turned around to face her, a slight exasperated look upon his face.

"He's in a very dark place right now. Best not to aggravate him." He turned away from her again, before jolting suddenly and whipping back around to face her. "Er, Hermione? Could you do me a favour? On Friday?" She looked at him questioningly, not really knowing whether she should agree to anything she was clueless about. Yet she had always felt an element of trust towards the dark haired, bespectacled boy, feeling a warmth from within him that she could almost touch.

"Master Harry?" She asked, her head lifting to look at him properly, despite how uncomfortable he looked.

"Look, I know Ron will probably want you to come and watch him, but I need you to come with me. I'd take Carla...but you know what she's like. Not that reliable." Looking very guilty, he searched her face for some kind of retribution for insulting Carla in such a way. Yet she smiled, knowing exactly what he meant, nodding in approval. His face filled with relief and he began nodding himself, "Thanks Hermione."

~x~x~x~

Hermione giggled a little as Ginny finished retelling her latest attempt upon Lavender's life by trying to shove her off of the top of the astronomy tower the previous night. To her great disapproval she had been unsuccessful after being cornered by Professor Sinistra and given a detention later that week, despite Lavender's demands of expulsion. "Personally, I think she wants rid of her too, or I would have got something much worse." Hermione smiled widely, almost wanting the Professor to have snuck back and shoved Lavender herself.

"Why would that be?" She asked genuinely, not able to think of a plausible reason as to why a teacher should despise their student so.

"Well, Brown's a total Trelawney arse kisser, thinks divination is better and more accurate than Astrology." They both recoiled in disgust, positively outraged at the ridiculous notion of divination being a reliable source of magical knowledge. Hermione gave a huge sigh,

"She's so retarded. She'll be slagging off Arithmancy next." Laughing slightly at her own joke, she barely noticed Ginny's face of disbelief as she flopped back onto the small patch of grass they were sat upon. The two of them had been sat upon a hill by the Quidditch Pitch, overlooking the two stone entrance towers for barely an hour when the young ginger haired girl had crumpled up the parchment she had been feverishly scribbling upon, screaming at it, blaming the inanimate object for her own failings. They had easily fallen into conversation, seemingly forgetting their positions, appearing more as friends to an unwitting outsider. Hermione almost felt as though she was able to tell her companion what had happened to her recently, express all that had happened with Ron, her worries over Viktor. Turning towards Ginny, she raised an inquisitive eyebrow,

"You think she isn't? She believes in all that prophecy crap completely." Both smiling widely, they barely noticed Harry had walked over to them until he was stood next to them, waving manically.

"Hermione!" He said with a wide smile, and Ginny suddenly shot up into a seated position, looking flustered and red.

"Master Harry?" Hermione gave him a wide smile, standing up to greet him.

"The match is in an hour and a half, I want you to meet me then by Hagrid's hut. Got it?" He said hurriedly, looking directly at her, almost ignoring Ginny completely,

"Yes Sir, of course Sir." He placed a hand upon her shoulder flippantly, not thinking how he must look, only suddenly noticing Ginny glaring at the two of them. He patted her shoulder a little, to which she looked at him awkwardly.

"Good girl. I appreciate this. I really do." Shuffling on his feet a little, not sure whether he should stay and create an even further awkward situation or leave to save face. Seemingly deciding the latter, he turned, taking a few steps before turning back around to face them, "Oh, and good luck Ginny, I know you'll do great." She burned red, an awkward smile crossing her face as he turned his back on them. As soon as he was out of earshot, she rounded viciously on Hermione,

"Where are you going with him?" She demanded, her fists clenched tightly in her direction. Shock spread over Hermione's face, noting how she was just as temperamental as her brother.

"I don't know." She said honestly, trying to convey this in her face as much as she could do, yet it seemed as though it did not persuade her.

"Yes you do. You tell me now!" Ginny demanded of her, inching closer and closer to Hermione, regardless of her obvious recoil.

"I don't! He asked me to go somewhere with him!" She persisted, seeing her Mistress's face twist further, anger rising within her, jealously clearly evident in her venomous tone. Drawing herself back, she folded her arms securely, her lips pursed tightly as she muttered,

"Why would he ask someone like you anywhere?" Clearly wanting Hermione to hear her, they then fell into silence as she sat deep in thought, her eyes flicking from her to the spot Master Harry had recently exited. No longer confused about what was happening, she bit her lip hard, daring to take a chance in order to make a friendship with the young girl, risking severe punishment, breaking their silence,

"When will you tell him?" She asked lightly, seeing Mistress Ginny's head shoot upwards.

"What?" She asked spitefully, glaring over at her once more.

"Master Harry...you should tell him how you feel." Ginny's face drained of colour, stumbling over her own words a little before going on the defensive,

"He wouldn't...I don't feel anything for him! How dare you suggest such a thing!" She half screamed, shocking Hermione, who recoiled slightly, fearful of an oncoming slap,

"I'm sorry Mistress! I just, well it seems as though...never mind." Suddenly abandoning her previously brave attempts at stimulation a response in the young girl. Squirming a little under her gaze, she did not notice as Ginny leant backwards, her eyes glued to the floor, her eyes looking a little wet.

"Is...is it really that obvious?" She whispered, Hermione looking over to her suspiciously, and then sympathetically as her face had fallen desperately.

"A little..." She said, shuffling forwards, unsure of whether to place a hand upon her shoulder, to hug her, or to simply stay sat close by. Without warning Ginny threw herself at Hermione, almost sobbing into her,

"Oh Hermione! What do I do? He thinks I'm his sister!" Even more unsure of what to do now, instead patting her on the head and pushing her away lightly,

"You'd be surprised." Her Mistress seemed to cheer up instantly, her tears fade and a smile start to appear. "He really likes you, if that's not too bold to say." She looked appreciatively towards Hermione, who smiled back, seemingly about to continue when a loud shout interrupted them,

"Oi, 'Mione!" Bellowed Ron, who was making his way up the hill towards them, already dressed in his Quidditch kit, minus his broom and hat. Springing to her feet she spun around quickly and ran towards him a little.

"Master!" Flinging herself to the floor in panic, she knelt swiftly and bowed widely to him, her face mashed into the grass sloppily.

"Get up!" Blushing scarlet he bent down towards her, dragging her up by the crook of her elbow, muttering, "So embarrassing." Taking her back up towards a now standing Ginny, who casually punched him in the stomach, laughing as she went.

"We ready to go?" She asked casually collection her remaining scraps of parchment and quill.

"Yeah, we need to get warmed up as soon as really," Looking from his sister, over to an obviously still awkward feeling Hermione, he seemed to have an internal battle, wandering whether he had any right to demand anything of her after the way he had last spoken to her, not knowing whether she would even want to speak to him again. "Er, look, um, come and see me today won't you? I know...I know I'm no good, but it'd be nice to see you there." He said hurriedly, his face not lifting from its downward direction as he began to busily push Ginny down the hill before him,

"Sir?" She asked after him, though he did not respond, nor even look back at her, giving her no chance to explain she would not be able to attend. Yet Ginny did turn her head backwards in warning, though she did not stop walking,

"Oh and Hermione! Your own feelings, they would be too bold to say!"

~x~x~x~

"Sir? If I could ask, where are we going?" Hermione looked up to Harry, who was walking swiftly beside her in the direction of a small wooden cabin on the edge of the grounds after having bumped into one another exiting the castle.

"Not a clue." Came his bewildered reply, confusing Hermione further.

"But...Hagrid!" She cried suddenly, running towards a giant of a man, twice as tall and three times as wide, who had come striding out of the door of the hut, slamming it behind him. Turning to face the facem, a smile broke through from beneath his mangled long mane of shaggy black hair and beard that had often threatened to take over his light skinned face, leaving space only for his nose and dark eyes that glinted like small black beetles.

"Alrigh' there 'ermione?" Hagrid asked cheerfully, pulling on an exceptionally large moleskin overcoat that pertained several pockets, no doubt full of strange and curious artefacts, and then picking up a loaded crossbow. From behind the house trudged a largely oversized boarhound who was slobbering slightly, panting heavily, and giving a sudden greeting with a loud, booming bark. Fang the dog had not been the only pet Hagrid had been known to have, and was normal by anyone's standards in comparison to his previous animals, which had included Norbert the dragon and Aragog the Acromantula. She shivered at the thought of these dangerous creatures and of those that lived within the forest, no doubt the reason for Hagrid's use of protection. She knelt down and began busily stroking the huge dog, who wagged his tail happily, dribbling over her.

"Fang! Hey there boy, it's been far too long!" She said cheerfully, though busily and nervously eyeing the weapon her was no wielding, clearly having reservations about what she had agreed to.

"'arry? Yer ready ter go then?" Both males giving a nod in agreeance, they turned towards the forest, Harry dragging Hermione alongside him, pushing her forwards a little. Opening her mouth a little, ready to question their situation, she closed it quickly, seeing Master Harry's blank and staring face.

"Yeah, just, let's just go Hermione. No questions." She nodded a little, her fear evident upon her face as she trembled a little, despite Hagrid's attempt at his cheery nature.

"Alrigh' then. Better be off in then!" Pushing his way into the forest, the two youngsters quickly followed, not wanting to be left behind in such a frightening place where danger could be watching them from around any corner. Walking for what seemed like an eternity, she was becoming more and more nervous, jumping at every turn, every noise. A loud snapping sounded through their silence and she shot into Harry, her head whipping from side to side manically.

"What's that? I can hear something!" She panicked, Harry trying to shove her forwards whilst trying to calm her at the same time, patting her back gently.

"Calm down. Hold my hand. You'll be okay." Squeezing his digits as tightly as she could Hermione clung to him, internally scolding herself for being so afraid over what appeared to be nothing at all.

"Not much further now. Jus' a bit further." Hagrid grunted from in from of them as they pushed on, the trees growing taller, thicker and denser around them, the darkness creeping over them. As silence followed, Hermione drew her mind from their situation, instead focusing upon who she was with.

"Sir." She asked Harry tentatively, as he looked down at her, clearly expecting another hysterical outbreak. "I need to say Sir."

"What?" He sighed heavily, almost making her regret her decision to play matchmaker.

"I...I think Mistress Ginevra likes you." He stopped abruptly, almost swallowing himself, looking as though she had attempted to shove an entire aubergine into his nostril.

"Don't be mad Hermione. Why would you pos-..." He flustered over his words, shaking his head violently, focusing of what was before him, suddenly cutting himself off s his mouth fell open. She whipped her head in the direction he was looking and gave a loud, shocking, piercing shriek that echoed throughout the forest as she was suddenly swept off of her feet, high into the air, just catching Harry whipping out his wand as she ascended.

"Shhh! Nar don't be frightening 'im!" Came a booming cry from beneath her as Hagrid waved his dustbin lid sized hands up at her. She froze in fear, staring at the creature that now held her suspended high in the trees. A giant, with light skin and green-brown eyes was staring back at her, his large hands holding onto Hermione's lower body tightly as he inspected her carefully. Squirming slightly, she managed to breathe out,

"Hagrid...what is it?" Her voice was high pitched and wailing, almost pleading with Master Harry to save her from such a creature.

"Look, Yeh know Umbridge's bin lookin' fer a chance ter get rid of me ever since I got back. I don' wan' ter go, o' course, but if it wasn' fer ... well ... See - he's my brother! I brought 'im back after goin' ter see the giants an' all, an' - an' taught him a few manners - I'd be able ter take him outside an' show ev'ryone he's harmless!" He rambled off flippantly, as though it were a perfectly normal and simply thing to do, acceptable in modern society. Hermione simply stared down at him, her mouth wide open, unable to speak.

"Hagrid, when you say 'brother'," said Harry slowly, not lowering his wand, but eyeing Hagrid accusingly, "Do you mean-...?"

"Well, half brother," amended Hagrid, "Turns out me mother took up with another giant when she left me dad, an' she went an' had Grawp here..."

"Grawp?" Hermione asked, almost hysterically, trying to keep herself as calm as she possibly could.

"Yeah...well, tha's what it sounds like when he says his name," Hagrid replied anxiously, though still trying to remain cheerful. "He don' speak a lot o' English...I've bin tryin' ter teach him...he's a bit on the runty side fer a giant...on'y sixteen foot..."

"Oh, yes, tiny!" Her panic-stricken sarcasm screeching through, "Absolutely minuscule!" Flinging his arms out, Hagrid tried justifying himself, calling up to her,

"He was bein' kicked aroun' by all o' them, I jus' couldn' leave him, I need someone ter look after 'im when I'm gone. Jus' fer visitin' purposes like." Looking towards Harry, who was slowly lowering his wand as Hermione was suddenly rushed towards the floor and then released a few feet from the ground. With a small shriek she flopped onto some soft moss and then shot towards Harry, hiding behind him.

"That'll be all? No feeding of any weird stuff?" Harry said slowly, not replacing his wand fully, eyes flicking between half-giant and giant alike.

"No!" Hagrid almost pleaded, what could be seen of his face crushed with desperation. Harry battled with himself silently, yet is was Hermione who spoke,

"We...we could help out. I suppose." She said shakily, trying to drag herself from behind Master Harry and look at Hagrid fully, and then towards Grawp, feeling slightly sorry for the young giant, an outcast from his own society, just as she was from her own.

"Yeah...Though we should be getting back." Harry agreed slowly, dragging Hermione back into him. Hagrid broke out into a large smile, almost wishing them away as quickly as possible so that they could not withdraw their offer of help.

"Yeah...yer can find yer way back now can't yer?" He asked rapidly, turning back to Grawp and giving a large thumbs up, which he thought he had disguised perfectly but was clearly seen by both teenagers.

"Yes..." Harry said clearly, beginning to drag her away from the two of them, still slightly in shock. "Come on Hermione." She nodded a little, following him in silence as they trudged back in the direction that they had come, as quickly as they possibly could.

"Hagrid..." She whispered, still reeling, not really understanding fully what she had just done, "What the hell have we agreed to Master Harry?" She looked up at him fearfully, yet calmed as his face lightened a little as they reached the edge of the forest.

"Hopefully something we won't regret." He said, rather optimistically, attempting to smile at her. As they reached the clearing of the Thestrals, a barely audible chant reached them, floating over the trees and towards them,

"What is that?" Hermione asked, though already knowing exactly where it was coming from.

"Weasley is our king!" The words echoed over both of them, sadness enveloping them. She could feel her heart break as she recognised the words. Clasping a hand to her mouth she gave a sob of sadness,

"No...Ron..." Rushing forwards she headed for the edge of the forest, followed closely by Master Harry. Breaking through the forest and out into the grounds, they both headed towards the pitch, which was now swarming with people who were busily exiting the ground, the chanting reverberating towards them. Stopping short, Harry pulled her back sharply and confusedly,

"Hermione..." He said slowly, listening carefully. The song was growing louder by the second, issuing from a large group of people that were not clad in silver and green, but rather a mass of red and gold who were moving slowly towards the castle, bearing a solitary figure upon their many shoulders.

"Weasley can save anything,

He never leaves a single ring,

That's why Gryffindors all sing:

Weasley is our King!"

"Wait..." Said Hermione in a hushed voice, the pieces slowly slotting into place as her eyes fixed onto the boy held high in the crowd.

"YES!" Cried Master Harry loudly from beside her, pulling her towards the crowd. Her Master yelled down at them,

"HARRY! 'MIONE!" Waving the silver Quidditch cup in the air, looking quite beside himself and overly pleased with their appearance. "WE DID IT! WE WON!" They beamed up at him as he passed, Hermione feeling as though her heart would explode with pride for him. Heading back up towards the castle, there was a scrum at the great door and her Master's head got rather badly bumped on the lintel causing him to cry out in pain, but nobody in the crowd seemed to want to put their victor down. Still singing, the crowd squeezed itself into the Entrance Hall and then out of sight, no doubt heading for their Common Room. Harry and Hermione watched them go, beaming, until the last echoing strains of 'Weasley is our King' died away. Then they turned to each other, their smiles fading, just as the sun on the horizon, both not wanting to ruin his glorious moment with Grawp's existence.

"Tomorrow, I'll tell him. Best to keep this from Carla though. It may kill her." He looked to Hermione who gave him a weary nod, beginning to climb the stairs after him. At the front doors both instinctively looked back at the Forbidden Forest, perhaps with fear or anticipation. Hermione was not sure whether or not it was her imagination, but she rather thought she saw a small cloud of birds erupting into the air over the tree tops in the distance, almost as though the tree in which they had been nesting had just been pulled up by the roots.

Reaching the Portrait hole, they gave the password and then stepped inside, side by side, greeted by a roar from all of Gryffindor that had packed themselves into the Common Room. Ron was collapsed in an armchair, busy being congratulated by various students, who were also bringing him drinks, or offering him their slaves for a week in return for his help in winning them the cup. Looking towards Harry her gave her a little shove in his direction, giving him a petite smile.

"Sir?" She said, looking over her shoulder and towards a corner where Mistress Ginny was stood, busily retelling her feelings during the match to a group of thoroughly excited first years. "Perhaps Mistress Ginevra needs a little more praise than she's getting credit for?" He gave her a slight nod and then looked over her head, turning slightly red, and then walking in that general direction, trying to act normal as he did so, though failing miserably. She chuckled a little as she made her way over to her Master, laying her eyes upon his grinning face with a soft smile upon hers. He didn't realise she was coming towards him until she knelt right before him and placed her head lightly upon one of his knees. Opening his eyes lazily, he looked down at her as she stared up at him, her eyes large and staring. Smiling a bit, he lent his head backwards once more and towards the high ceiling, closing his eyes.

"Too bad you didn't see me today eh, 'Mione?" She lifted her head a little as he spoke softly to her, barely audible over the roar of the rest of Gryffindor. About to argue her case, to try and defend herself against any impending punishment. Yet he spoke before she could, surprising her a little as she lowered her head back onto his knee. Feeling his hand upon her head,

"Never mind, next time." She did not know whether to be pleased or not with his response, despite feeling very awkward in his presence, having not discussed any of their last argument with anyone, she felt a certain resolution as she lay there, not caring if anyone stared at their strange behaviour, feeling suddenly lifted. "'Mione?" He suddenly asked, not moving as she lifted herself upwards.

"Sir?" She inquired, looking suddenly complacent, not minding anything that he would ask of her.

"Go fetch me some food will you?" He breathed, causing a small smile to fall over her face,

'Typical...' She thought happily, rising to her feet, "Yes Sir." Beginning to walk past him, intent upon making her way to his room and taking the heater down to the kitchens. Yet he took hold of her wrist, suddenly but gently, and she looked back to him, still sat in the same position, but with eyes wide open and staring up at her.

"And 'Mione." He almost mouthed, his voice soft and quiet,

"Sir?" She asked kindly, seeing his face a mix of obvious euphoria and of pain.

"I'm sorry."

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><p><em>Japan's Arc Angel x<em>


	17. Chapter Seventeen: Stunned

_A little unprepared for the quick ascent to seven, must admit, but as promised (or as soon as I found out) here's the next chapter! My last seemed to disappoint a few people, I've had some pretty upsetting feedback in e-mails and so forth, but by chapter sixteen, I would have presumed any issues would have stopped people reading. Seems not :( Well, with motivation at an all time low, I'll try and keep my promise and get out a new chapter by seven reviews. On a happier note, wow you wonderful reviewers! I simply adore the lot of you :D I hope you can find it within yourselves to keep going at this until the end! Happy Reading!_

_Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes :P_

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><p><span>Chapter Seventeen: Stunned<span>

Hermione sat, cross legged on the floor in the dungeons, outside of her Master's Potions classroom, waiting for him to come out and collect her, ready for dinner. She had been sat there for almost an hour and a half now, freezing cold in her maids outfit, having been asked to wear it earlier that morning. Despite her protests and demands for a reason, she had been instead told to 'shut up and get it on as a punishment for back chatting about wearing it', making her rather bitter towards her Master since then. Having been sat waiting for him; she had been surprised when a large owl had swooped into the corridor, beating her about the head with the letter it was carrying. She had shrieked, causing Professor Snape to exit with Ron, both of them receiving a slap to the back of the head. They had both retreated into the chamber, leaving her with the threat of severely punished afterwards. Sighing heavily, she had begun to read what had been sent her, her chest tightening as she finished it. A tear slipped down her cheek and plopped silently onto the parchment, smudging the words. Sobbing a little, she could not even figure why, thinking only of the friend she found herself to be losing. Viktor was leaving her, going back to Bulgaria within the hour, was now waiting for her in the Great Hall to say his goodbye. They had had their issues, no doubt about it, but she did not want to lose him because of them, not because she had chosen to stay with her Master. She had to at least say goodbye, let him know how she felt and not let him leave thinking badly of her. A bang and the door beside her was flung open, almost splattering her into the wall, allowing people to filter out into the corridor and up the stone steps. Both Ron and Harry walked past her, barely acknowledging her at all, even as she ran up behind them fumbling and stumbling over herself.

"Um...Sir?" She asked quietly, holding out the parchment in front of his face. Her Master glared at her, snatching it away and reading it quickly before tossing it back at her. It fell to the floor and she scrambled to pick it back, even as he continued walking away from her.

"And I want with this...what?" He asked, barely addressing her as Harry stared back at her small figure running back at him.

"I...I just thought maybe-" She began, but he stopped abruptly, clearly understanding immediately what she was asking of him,

"You thought wrong." He said flatly, pulling out an apple and trying to ignore her pleading and hurt face as she clutched the parchment tightly to her chest, staring up at him in desperation. She could not believe he had denied her such an opportunity, not after everything that had happened to them so far, he had to hold some compassion for her.

"But I may never see him again!" She cried at him, taking hold of his arm and squeezing tightly, yet he pushed her away.

"Granger! I said NO!" He said angrily, surprised when Harry spoke to him in a most condemning manner,

"Come on mate! Don't be an arse." Ron flinched, rounding on him accusingly, his arms flailing around in the air, almost dropping his books.

"How am I being an arse?" He demanded, bits of apple flicking from his face, though his expression lessened, seemingly rethinking his decision, contemplating the possibility that he was being unfair.

"She said she won't get to see him again, don't be selfish." Harry looked at his oddly, causing him to feel suddenly ashamed, and a glimmer arose in Hermione's face.

"Fine. But I'm coming too." She drew back from him, remembering their last encounter as a threesome, not wanting to ever repeat it. She looked to Harry again for guidance, but he simply shrugged at her, he had done his best and that was the end of it. "Any issues Granger?" She looked back at him with pursed lips, wanting to argue, but finding herself resilient in keeping herself quiet and just be pleased she was even seeing him at all. Though this was not the first time she had had to say goodbye to someone that she held dear to her, at least she could say this time, she had be wholly true to him, not like her parents whom she had lied to for countless years about her state of well being, or her grades, or the friends that she had made, lying how she was so close to her Master and Master Harry, that they were the best of friends. She had lied to the other girls of her dorm that had left so very long ago, told them that they would be safe, that they were strong, and nothing would stop their fight against the wizarding world, and if did, they would return home immediately, safe and secure. Now he was leaving her too, but he knew her hardship, he knew why she stayed and why they could never be, yet she felt the guilt of almost taking advantage of him, knowing that they would not be together, still trailing that glimmer of hope for him to readily follow.

"No Sir." She said quietly, following him as he ascended the staircase, up towards the Entrance Hall,

"Right, let's get it over with." Beginning to drag her over towards an almost empty Great Hall, despite her obvious shock at his actions.

"Now?" She asked looking at him ludicrously, dumbly following behind him as Harry left them, making his way up towards the Common Room.

"Yes now!" Stopping at the entrance he looked at her expectantly before giving her a shove inside the partly opened doors, "Well, go on then!" She nodded a little before turning around to find only Viktor, sat alone at the Slytherin table in the corner of the large room. He had his large fluffy overcoat on with only one suitcase by his side, which brought tears to her eyes before he even looked up at her, smiling widely at her presence. Running forwards he stood up to greet her as she flung her arm around him, sobbing a little, though still trying to keep a smile plastered over her face.

"Viktor!" She croaked as he lifted her off of her feet in a rib crushing hug,

"Hermy-own-ninny!" Placing her down he smiled wide until a crunching sound echoed from behind her, and looking over her head, his face fell into a dark grimace, "You brought the Weasley boy?" He hissed, not even looking down to her. She put her hands on either side of his face and made him face her, he small smile seeming to calm him, despite its watery texture.

"Sorry...But I couldn't see you otherwise." She said in a hushed whisper, and the two of them giggled a little at their final moment together having to be chaperoned.

"Hurry this up Granger!" Her Master suddenly bellowed at her and she winced, pulling an apologetic smile as Viktor glared over her head at the tall ginger and obviously impatient boy. Turning her head, she looked at him sadly,

"Sir..." Turning back, she caught Viktor looking down to his watch and sighing heavily, straightening himself and moving backwards to retrieve his suitcase. "Must you go?" She asked, trying not to cry anymore, wanting their last moments together to be ones she would remember fondly, not of herself as a shameful mess. He walked back to her and placed a hand upon her shoulder,

"You haff made your decision. I can do no more I am thinkings. It is for thee best." He shot another distasteful look over towards Ron, who seemed to share his feelings, glaring back at him with equal venom.

"I'll miss you. Write me. Promise me?" Hermione asked, oblivious to their exchange, focusing solely on saying a proper goodbye.

"Alvays" He bent towards her, kissing her cheek lightly and taking his case up, walking towards the doors. Giving her one last wave, "You ver my girl, Hermy-own-ninny." Then disappearing out of the door from her, leaving a rather triumphant and jubilant look upon her Master's face, until he turned to see her own, saddened and facing the floor. Shuffling towards her, he reached out his free hand about to touch her shoulder, then recoiling a little, only to pat her head lightly instead.

"Sorry Granger." When she did not reply he looked around a little, seemingly looking for Harry to come to his own rescue. Looking to his other hand, he extended it towards her, "Apple?" Her head lifted suddenly, tear still drowning her eyes as she snatched the fruit from his hands and slammed it into the floor by her feet, mashing it into the stone with her shoe.

"Hey!" He cried, on the verge of reprimanding her, yet all thoughts of this drained instantaneously as she reached up and took hold of his shirt in two great handfuls and yanked him forwards, crashing her lips into his, not caring that they were in the middle of the bustling school, possibly only seconds away from detection. Taking her hand in his hair she pulled him closer into her, as much as she could do, before biting him on the lip, hard. He pulled back from her and into the wall, shocked and looking down at her tiny figure as she still hung onto him

"I don't want your shitting apple! Do you think I'm attracted to them or something? You stupid boy! What is it with people like you thinking they're in the right just because the law says so? If I had my wand, by Merlin's name I would hex you!" She gave a great heaving sob, and let go of his shirt, turning and running from him as fast as her legs would carry her.

~x~x~x~

She knew that he was following her, all the way from the Great Hall, up every single flight of stairs and down the seventh floor corridor, able to keep up with simple strides compared to her franticly moving legs. She knew he was watching from around a far corner as she requested the Room of Requirements assistance; he saw her walk inside, face to the floor, tears still filling her face, even though she could not say whether it was for the loss of Viktor, or for the shame of what she had just done to her Master. Walking inside, the room had shrunk considerably, a large pile of cushions and blankets in its centre, a small box of tissues placed carefully upon the highest pillow. The room felt soft and peaceful, the ambient lighting and soft aromas wafting over her, calming her beating heart and rapid breathing. Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes, pausing for a moment to relax herself fully, wanting to spend this time alone, consoling herself, despite suspecting that her Master would somehow seek to gain entrance to the room. She smiled wetly, and opening her eyes walked slowly towards the pile, flopping onto them softly and snuggling in deeply, feeling comfier than she had in months. 'How did I get into such a mess?' She thought miserably, considering what it would be like if she abandoned her quest for justice immediately, packed her bags and went home, or even ran to the train station, climbed aboard and went home with Viktor, not having to worry about the threat of punishment or perhaps even death, not having to shut her emotions off to her Master, would no longer have to acknowledge the attraction she felt towards him. Hearing the door creek open behind her, she closed her eyes, pretending to be steadily dozing, and turned onto her side, hoping that her Master would leave her alone, so that she wouldn't have to face him. Yet instead she heard his footsteps coming ever closer, the pillows behind her shift and her back become instantly warmer as he shuffled towards her, lying as close as he possibly could. Her heart began racing, scared at his close proximity, yet excited by the heat he was exuding. Opening her eyes ever so slightly, so was furious with herself for not facing him, yet, at the same time, grateful that he could not see her face, for the shame she felt from being so close to her Master in such a way. She felt his arms slip snugly around her waist, pulling her in even more. She saw his hand move upwards, feeling him draw her sleeve from her shoulder, his lips press gently against her skin momentarily, again and again as she lay there, still and unresponsive. Frozen where she lay, she could barely think, not wanting to feel her sudden explosion on excitement, not wanting to pull away from him either. His gentle nature had taken over once more, igniting a passion within her that she did not know if she wanted to feel or not. Breathing heavily, she could feel his tongue caressing her skin, inching closer to her neck, causing her to shiver a little, yet leaving her fearful of her own emotions, of her body's own response. Feeling herself losing control, she turned suddenly and pushed him from her, "No." He looked back at her, staring directly into her eyes, almost saddened, definitely hurt. He leant in towards her face, almost seeming to kiss her but pulling back at the last second.

"Please. Talk to me." He said, his voice soft yet still commanding, his eyes pleasing with her to be honest with him, to speak truthfully and honestly, possibly for the only time that they would ever be able to. She paused, not replying straight away, not wanting to speak out for fear of being unable to restrain herself, of from breaking down in front of him, shaming and embarrassing herself all at the same time.

"No!" She gasped finally, closing her eyes to him tightly, wishing him away so that her head would stop pounding, her stomach stop churning and she could act normal, feel the same towards him as she did to anyone else. Tears threatening to spill, she became a little alarmed when she felt his breath upon her face, trying desperately not to show her panic.

"Hermione..." He whispered lightly, only just loud enough for her to hear. She replied in her normal voice, trying to stop its quiver as her voice warbled when she spoke,

"Master?" She asked, fully expecting a demand for something consumable. Yet when he did speak, she gave a great twitch, her arm convulsing into him painfully.

"Say my name." He asked her, rather than demanding of her, waiting patiently as her eyes fluttered open gracefully. Her mouth opened a little, completely unsure of what she should say. Not knowing whether to comply or reject the idea completely, she closed her mouth, only to open it once more.

"...Ron?" She breathed, barely able to regain her breath and her composure, when he kissed her, only lightly and not at all forcefully. He pulled away, but was met with resistance as she pulled him back, kissing him again, a little harder, making him wince slightly. Stopping she looked into his eyes, slowly travelling down his face and to his lips, a small bruise from where she had bit him was now purpling and raw looking. Guilt instantly overtook her, not wanting to look at it any longer, instead kissing it lightly, flicking her tongue over his wound, hoping that he would understand her, forgive her for her rashness. He did not push her, or attempt to try anything, just let her continue as she wished, leaving himself in her hands. Yet her nerves were destroying her, she had never been so intimate with anyone, and she certainly had never imagined it to be with her Master, someone whom she had though she hated for so many years, but now, in this one moment, could not have felt closer to. Sliding her tongue into his mouth, she ran her tongue over his teeth lightly, and then over his own tongue as he slipped it past her lips and into her mouth. She felt electric, like her body was alight and would not be dowsed by any mean, magical or not, for she felt in herself, magical and alive, free for the first time as he pushed his tongue further into her, his hands around her neck and back, not wanting to let go as she dragged her hands through his hair forcefully, liking how it slipped between the joins of her fingers with ease, even liking how his long nose tickled her own tiny one as he pushed them closer together. She groaned a little, dragging him head first on top of her, becoming slightly breathless as his long frame almost consumed her tiny one. Yet he suddenly stopped, propping himself up on his elbows and staring down at her seriously,

"What the hell are you still doing here? You should have left years ago." He said straight, leaving her a little confused as to what was now happening and why he had suddenly stopped, knowing that they were safe and hidden from the prying eyes of others. Gulping slightly, she looked down to her own chest, deciding, for once, to be whole heartedly honest with him,

"How could I ever leave you?" His eyes seemed to sparkle momentarily, looking down at her with a certain glowing happiness. She felt her throat block a little, not wanting him to think he was the main or sole reason she was staying at Hogwarts, not to think she was attached to him, or had feelings of more than simple attraction, "Or Carla. Or Justin. Kevin...I can't abandon them, not now, not ever." He seemed to falter, but then become more resilient, his voice growing louder as he leaned in closer to her,

"It would have been safer if you'd have gone back home. You'd have never been dragged into everything by me and Harry. You wouldn't have to live under our law." His voice oozed sincerity, almost touching her very being s though she could feel all that her was saying to her, feel that this was who he truly was, beneath all that society had placed upon him.

"The law is wrong. Not the people who live under it." Placing her hand upon his cheek he looked back at her solemnly, though not wanting to see the pain present within her eyes.

"I'm sorry. For everything." He said quietly, not daring to look at her. They fell into silence as he seemed to understand within himself that him next sentence would crush her, "And I'm sorry, if you stay here, I can't change towards you. It has to be this way. And we can't do this; I can't be seen with you." His voice trailed off, seemingly slightly upset of what he would have to do to her if she stayed with him, how he would have to treat her, the punishments he would have to give.

"I know." She looked into his glittering blue eyes and smiled at how they shone in the small amount of light that floated around the dimly lit room, making her well up, feel as though she could cry for eternity, just as not to see sadness ever cross them. "I also know that's not who you are." He looked away from her, shame filling his face, causing her heart to sink a little,

"You don't know who I am." He said quietly and bitterly, his normal voice returning to him as he groaned inwardly.

"I know enough." She took both hands to his face, turning it directly in line with hers, staring at him sincerely.

"Hermione-" He began, but she placed a finger to his lips,

"Shh..." She whispered, dragging his lips back into hers.

~x~x~x~

Carla was eyeing her suspiciously from the floor below her, where she had been sitting silently since the History of Magic exam had started an hour ago. From beside Kevin on the Entrance Steps, Hermione raised a casual eyebrow, "What?" She asked accusingly.

"Nothing." She replied smugly, her lips pursed tightly and almost mockingly. Hermione's back straightened a little, pulling a slinking Crookshanks up onto her knee, who was purring lightly. Stroking his fur, she looked back to Carla, her eyes glazed in fear of her secret being so easily discovered. It was bad enough that she was attracted to her overly tall, largely freckly, ginger haired Master, without the knowledge of her having acted upon those emotions. Clearing her throat, she threw back wildly,

"Come on! Out with it!" Carla wiggled her head from side to side in an unattractive manner, her fingers twitching and her teeth dug into her bottom lip painfully.

"It's nothing!" She retorted angrily, straightening herself and rising to her knees in defence. Hermione's insides were shaking slightly, anticipation and anxiety taking over her violently. Trying to sound her normal self, she gave a shaky laugh, brushing Carla off,

"You're such a shit liar." Not expecting a response she smiled casually at Kevin who was busy waving small biscuit treats at Crookshanks, who playfully pawed at them until her received one after the other. Yet Carla did speak, gaining in volume.

"Alright then yes. What's happened with you?" She questioned, condemning her before she even had chance to defend herself, knowing that she was rights at any cost and that Hermione was point blank playing the fool and lying to her.

"What's what?" She replied innocently, turning from her as to not arouse further suspicion. Yet Carla persisted,

"You've done something." She sat up fully, wiggling her head once more and placing her hands upon her hips, tilting ungracefully to one side.

"No...no I haven't." Hermione said forcefully, looking to Kevin for reassurance and back up, but he simply looked the other way, not wanting to become involved in such issues that did not concern him, despite how interested in the gossip of Hermione doing something unconventional he was.

"You've been acting weird ever since yesterday. I know you've done something." Carla said patronisingly, wagging a finger in Hermione's direction. Her eyebrows furrowed as she glared back at her friend, trying to disguise her horrified features, not understand how she could have made her emotions so blatantly obvious in such a short time span.

"Oh, and you'd know what weird is wouldn't you?" She threw back, ignoring her friends shocked face, even as her glasses slipped to the end of her nose, causing her to peer over them in astonishment at Hermione.

"Shut up!" She cried, suddenly hurt by the suggestion that she was in any way abnormal. Hermione drew back slightly, resuming her care for Crookshanks, a little ashamed that she had been so hurtful towards her friend, just so that she could absolve herself from guilt and not allow her dishonourable secret to be told. Taking a different approach, she said, trying not to sound too harsh,

"If you can't take don't dish!" Looking positively mortified, Carla screamed at her,

"I wasn't dishing anything!"She practically recoiled in horror, neither of them noticing how Kevin's head fell into his hands in disgust and disapproval.

"Yes. You were."

"No. I wasn't!"

"Yes! You were!" The two of them were now stood up, practically shrieking in one another's faces, threatening for something larger to begin between them. Yet the next cry that came, was not theirs,

"Merlin's beard! SHUT UP!" Kevin threw his arms out at them in desperation, a bewildered look covering his face, the two girls simply staring back at him open mouthed. A loud bang from behind them caused them all to spin erratically, a small bald head protruding from between the doors of the Great Hall, looking highly appalled with all three of them.

"Excuse me! You do realise there's an examination going on in here don't you?" He cried in outrage, shaking a fist at them as their heads fell in embarrassment.

"Yes Sir," Replied Kevin, nudging Carla whospoke next,

"Sorry Professor Tofty."

"Sir!" Hermione nodded at his as he began to retreat back into the hall, dragging the large doors as he went, muttering slightly,

"Bloody Slaves..." They fell back into silence, the girls glaring at one another ferociously. Moments passed and Carla reached over to pinch her on the knee, but received a small kick in return, and a threatening whisper,

"Yes you did! And no I have not done anything!" They both crossed their arms diligently, Kevin remaining expressionless as he stared through them both silently.

"...Liar." Carla muttered, barely audible, yet loud enough for Hermione to throw yet another distasteful look in her direction. It was true she hated being called a liar, even when it was plainly obvious that she was one, and undeserving of any praise or sympathy. Growling slightly, she yanked Crookshanks back onto her knee, despite his hissing protests and whines, clawing at her leg so that she would release him. Yet another loud bang came from before them, Harry collapsing through the doors and looking around a little, clearly confused about what he was doing.

"Master Harry?" Carla asked tentatively, and his head shot in their direction. Clutching his head with one hand he took hold of Carla with the other, the breathing deep and rattling, pain evident as he spoke,

"McGonagall!" He cried, his face etched in suffering as he shook the poor girl violently.

"Sir?" She replied, suddenly frightened by him, trying to pull away, but still concerned enough to allow him to be so rough with her where usually he was gentle.

"I need to find McGonagall!" He screamed at her, causing Kevin to jump up and separate the two, almost in fear for Carla's safety.

"The Hospital Wing? I heard she was shot with four stunning spells when they came for Hagrid, she must be there." He said quickly, Harry nodding along with him feverishly.

"Good, but if she's not...go find her for me? Please girls?" He looked past Kevin towards the two slave girls who were side by side, looking desperate to help in any way that they could. Hermione looked at her friend and both nodded, turning back to Master Harry,

"Leave it to us."

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><p><em>Japan's Arc Angel x<em>


	18. Chapter Eighteen: Umbridge

_Such supportive receptions, thanks so so so much for everything! Those first seven reviews were phenomenal! The happiness I felt in writing this chapter was unbelievable, so I hope that this will be too now that we're so close to the end! And for those of you who've read the books and can tell whats coming or think it'll be predictable...Guess again ;) Sooo looking forward to my final chapter! Apologies for such a late upload in the day :) Happy Reading!_

_Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes :P_

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><p><span>Chapter Eighteen: Umbridge<span>

Staring after Master Harry as he ran up the steps, disappearing from view, the girls turned to one another. "Better get going then." Carla looked at her apprehensively, nodding at her. Hermione couldn't help but feel a squirming within her stomach, an oncoming feeling of fear and regret, just as she had done so many times over the past years when she had been thrown into a situation by either her own Master or Master Harry. All she could think was that their situation was coming to a head, the year was about to end it explosion. Bending quickly she scooped Crookshanks into her arms and then turned to Kevin, almost desperately, holding him out towards her.

"I...I don't know what's going to happen, but please take him." He looked back at her, very confusedly, though took the feline anyway, holding him tightly and nodding at her. Turning back to Carla she tried to force out a small smile, "Let's go." The two of them shot down the stairs and towards a set of double doors that led towards the Suspension Bridge, Hermione leading the way across it and towards the Viaduct Entrance.

"Where are we going?" Carla cried out from behind, Hermione only flipping her head around momentarily,

"Her office of course!" She replied as the crossed the half way point of the bridge, Carla's voice faltering. Hermione turned to find hr stood still, looking perplexed,

"But I thought Kevin said the Hospital Wing?" Shaking her head a little, Hermione moved back to her,

"Only maybe. She could easily be up here." She said, ready to continue running towards Professor McGonagall's office.

"What about the Headmasters office?" Hermione froze, turning back to Carla, looking bewildered at her sudden spark of genius. Laughing a little into a smile, she nodded rapidly,

"Good, yeah, you go there. Meet me back here in ten." Carla turned from her and ran back the other way. Hermione turned and carried on herself, picking up her long dress as not to trip over it. Crashing through the double doors, she made for the doorway and up the Defence Against The Dark Arts Tower, towards the first floor. Banging on the door as loud as she could, she waited patiently, tapping her foot. Raising her hand again, she pounded her fist into the wood, "Professor? Professor!" Looking around her she made a spontaneous decision, throwing open the door and walking into the office, finding it empty but for the crackle of the fire as it danced by the hearth. "Damn it..." Her heart racing, her breath heaving, she rushed over to a nearby desk, rummaging around the papers upon it, desperate for some indication of where she could be. Desperately scanning every piece of paper she could find that could possibly help Master Harry, oblivious to the creaking of the door as it slowly opened.

"Hem hem." Came a small, sickly sweet voice, causing Hermione to jump backwards into a chair, scraps of parchment still filling her hands. A hand still propping open the door, a short, squat woman resembling a large pale toad, smiled cruelly back at her, her large flabby face, supporting the corners of her slack mouth and her bulging eyes that were gleaming with delight and cruelty. Almost blinding Hermione in a full pink tweed suit and a large velvet bow that resembled a large fly perched unwisely on top of an even larger toad; the woman fluffed her mousey hair and giggled a little.

"Professor!" Hermione cried, her eyes widening further as three boys stepped from behind her and into the room, dragging a familiar face with them, "Carla?" She received a weak smile from her, an excruciatingly sorry smile, as she was dragged upwards by a boy she recognised as Gregory Goyle. She felt instantly sick, surrounded by her new Headmistress and the son of the Deputy Minister with his cronies, with no way of escaping, apart from throwing herself out of the window.

"And you think you are doing what exactly?" She asked in a high pitched, girlish voice, causing Hermione to stumble over her words a she tried to think of an excuse as to why she had intruded a Professors personal belongings.

"I...I was looking for Professor McGonagall." She spewed, knowing that it would not suffice as all four smiles turned upwards cruelly, almost mocking her ineptitude to cover her own lies,

"For what purpose?" Umbridge asked, almost breathlessly, giggling a little at the same time,

"I just need to find her." Hermione mumbled in response, seeing Carla sink lower and lower into the floor as her knees gave way, needing more and more support from both Crabbe and Goyle as her body gave way. Her stomach spasmed and she released a nervous giggle as Umbridge turned to the remaining Slytherin, nodding lightly. He marched around the desk and took sharp hold of her arm, twisting it behind her back, causing her to squeal in pain and drop all she was holding. "Hey, what?" She was dragged forwards as he took hold of her other wrist, keeping her as close to his chest as he could, forcing her in front of Umbridge. Sneering, she withdrew her wand, "Since no-one is around..." She smiled purposefully, knowing that she herself could not be punished for showing magic to Muggleborns, especially when she intended to use it upon them. Eyeing the tip, a blue spark flickered out of it, panicking Hermione greatly, causing her to squirm a little, trying to pull away, yet Draco held her fast as it was pushed hard into her throat directly over her carotid pulse. Her breathing increased a little, her body dragging in air as quickly as she could in an attempt to calm herself and stop her body from shaking. "I said...for what purpose?" Her voice suddenly angry, Hermione seriously considered just being honest, but remembered who the woman before her was, and all that she had done to her and her fellow Muggleborns, her prejudices and even poor treatment of Master Harry. Her eyes glazed over and she glared back at Umbridge, determined not to say anything, even if it cost her. She could see the old hag in front of her increasingly anger through her silence, seemingly ready to curse her, for a small voice floating over to them from by the door.

"Master Harry needs her!" Barely even lifting her head, Carla had spoken, dragged upwards suddenly once more and onto her feet, slammed back into the wall,

"Carla..." Screwing her eyes tight she wished she could take back her words for her, take her and run, hide her from the world and protect her. Umbridge turned to look at Carla and then back at Hermione with a sadistic smile, pushing her wand a little further into her, and then flicking it away, rounding on Carla, short arm extending her overly short wand in her direction.

"Aah, well, what shall-" Umbridge began, being brutally cut off as a short, hard faced Pansy Parkinson crashed against the door, clearly struggling for breath,

"Professor! Potter and his lot are in your office! Millicent's standing guard." Straightening suddenly, the look of shock that had spread over her face suddenly melted and she turned to Hermione, taking her chin forcefully, digging her nails painfully into her skin,

"Let's go and pay them a visit then shall we?" Giving her a harsh tap to the cheek she straightened, although this did not improve her height by much, and then made for the door, Hermione's heart still pounding as she watched after her, willing her to carry on walking. Yet when she turned back around to the boys, Hermione knew what was coming, bile rising in her stomach, knowing that if her Master was to be caught, she would not be able to sit back, she would have to protect him. "Bring them." She felt herself shoved forwards, her arm being twisted further, causing her to cringe, feeling as though it were going to break, but refusing to cry out loud anymore, even as Draco sneered into her ear,

"Hurting yet Granger?" Obviously enjoying her pain, even as everyone else exited the room.

"No, Sir." She dared to reply, earning herself a sudden yank, causing her to whimper, before shoving her out of the door, following the others back down the staircase.

"I hadn't thought so."

~x~x~x~

By the time Hermione reached Umbridge's office with Draco, Master Harry was being held up by his hair by the teacher herself, bending his neck back as far as it would go as though she were about to slit his throat. Carla had been thrown into a corner, looking lifeless, and several large Slytherins were each gripping Master Ron, Mistress Ginny, Mistress Luna and Master Neville, all of whom were gagged and the latter being trapped in a stranglehold by Crabbe and looked in imminent danger of suffocation.

"You think," Umbridge whispered, dangerously low in Master Harry's face, "That I would not know that a filthy little creature like yourself would be in my office. Almost as bad as your second little Mudblood spy over there." The group turned to the doorway to look at Hermione, who looked back in sorrow and despair, humiliated and immensely sorry for allowing herself to be caught. A muffled cry came from her Master, seemingly as he tried to call her name as she looked over towards his now terrified face. Feeling the pressure upon her arms slacken, she looked behind her to Draco, who simple smirked and then walked away from her, distracting her attention so that when Millicent Bulstrode, a giant of a girl came over to her, she was completely unprepared when she was slammed violently into the wall by the door, gasping as the wind was knocked clean out of her. "Take his wand." She heard Umbridge say, from behind the Slytherin girl's hulking form that was shielding her view. "Now what were you doing?" Asked Umbridge, her sickly voice returning, seemingly attempting to restore order in her office, whilst threatening them at the same time.

"Nothing." Came Master Harry's strangled reply, a pathetic attempt at covering his tracks.

"Liar." She stated simply, "I want to know why you were in my office and who you were trying to contact. Albus Dumbledore? That half-breed Hagrid? That foolish cow McGonagall?" Umbridge was now pacing around the room speaking as though she had the sole authority of the world upon her, her hands clasped tightly, drifting in and out of Hermione's line of sight. "Clearly so important that you sent this buffoon," She paused momentarily and nodded towards her Master, causing anger to break out over her, already upset by his bruised face and bleeding lip, enraged that the Malfoy boy dares laugh at him, "To tell me the poltergeist was wreaking havoc in the Transfiguration Department-" Yet she was cut across as Hermione's anger boiled over suddenly, not caring about the consequences that could possibly come to her, shouting loudly,

"How dare you, you foul, lying, twisted gargoyle!" There was a long pause in which all eyes turned at her as she stared under Bulstrode's arm, glaring at Umbridge as if it were enough to kill her.

"Oh?" She was still smiling, unnerving Hermione greatly as she took a step towards her, Bulstrode moving out of the line of fire. Yet her smile faltered suddenly, when she was close enough, her slack face tightening as she took hold of Hermione and shoved her into the table, pain erupting in her lower back as they connected, "You dares cross me you worthless little girl?" Her chest rising and falling rapidly, she could not even regret her words as a crack echoed through the room as Umbridge's hand connected with the side of her face, sending her directly into the floor, "You should be grateful I haven't killed you yet, you meddling little bitch." She gave Hermione a sharp kick to the leg and then strode back over towards Master Harry who had been watching speechlessly, his mouth wide open and gaping. Her cheek was on fire, a ringing resonating through her head as her eyes longed to close themselves, let her sleep as her vision slipped and swam in front of her, barely able to even concentrate upon what was happening, vaguely hearing 'Professor Snape' before the office fell into silence. Trying to keep herself focused, she looked over to her Master, the only place noise was coming from by the various fidgetings and scuffling resulting from the three Slytherins effort to keep him under control and restrained. Ignoring the opening of the door as Draco and Snape returned, their exchange hushed, she turned to look further down the wall, towards Carla's crumpled form. Taking a huge ragged breath, she reached out to her, unnoticed by the Slytherins who were watching Umbridge and Snape intently, and touched her hand, noting how cold she seemed. Shuffling towards her, Hermione took her head up and held her slightly stirring body tightly, whispering into her ear softly,

"It'll be alright, I promise you. Come on now, get up. Wake up. Carla!" A sudden out burst from Master Harry, caused all of them to turn around and face both Harry and Snape, who looked round at Harry. His face was inscrutable. "I have no idea," said Snape coldly. "Potter, when I want nonsense shouted at me I shall give you a Babbling Beverage. And Crabbe, loosen your hold a little. If Longbottom suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork and I am afraid I shall have to mention it on your reference if ever you apply for a job."

"Oi!" Bulstrode shouted suddenly at Hermione, who looked startled after listening so intently to the conversation taking place in front of her. "Get away you filthy creature!"

"No! Wait! She's sick! I can't just leave her!" Yet Hermione was dragged suddenly away by Bulstrode, despite her protests and attempts to wriggle free and return to her friend.

"Bulstrode. Take the girl to the Hospital Wing. You're as stupid as Crabbe when creating problems for me when killing off the Gryffindors." They all looked around at him, Hermione's face full of appreciation for the teacher that most people despised and that many had told her was cold hearted and full of hatred towards any student that wasn't a Slytherin. Bulstrode obliged, albeit looking bewildered, hauling Carla onto her shoulders and walking out of the door, closely followed by Snape who closed the door behind him with a snap.

"Very well," Umbridge said, pulling out her wand slowly, twiddling it in her fingers slowly, "Very well...I am left with no alternative...this is more than a matter of school discipline...this is an issue of Ministry security...yes...yes..." She seemed to be talking herself into something and the way she was pacing was making Hermione feel sick and anxious as she watched Umbridge in silence, shifting her weight from one foot to the other nervously, staring at Master Harry, and then at the others and back to him, beating her wand against the empty palm, breathing almost as heavily as Hermione, who could not shake the feeling of oncoming terror and the need to avert it. Feeling more powerless than ever, Hermione could not even move, simply stare at the muttering woman, "You are forcing me after all Potter...I don't want to...but with the slave as well," She turned to look at Hermione intensely, her eyes hungry and rabid, "Sometimes circumstances justify...I am sure the Minister will understand that there is no real choice..." Reassuring herself by turning to the eager and excited faces of the Slytherins, she gave herself one last nod, "The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue." She said quietly, earning a whoop from Goyle. Hermione's eyes bulged and she lunged forwards, caught suddenly by Draco who dragged her backwards, trying to cover her mouth with his hand,

"No!" She shrieked as loud as she could, "That's illegal!" Yet Umbridge barely took any notice, flippantly commenting with a wave of her hand,

"A slave like you shouldn't even have that kind of knowledge. You'll be next don't you worry." She gave a little chuckle as she began aiming her wand at different points of Master Harry's body, presumably trying to decide which point of contact would hurt his the most. Still struggling desperately, not wanting to fail him or Carla in letting her friends close Master and friend be hurt by such a vile woman. Trying again, she cried out,

"The Minister wouldn't want you breaking the law, Professor!" Yet she was waved away by a hot pink glove as her wand finally rested directly over Master Harry's heart, sending Hermione's beating like crazy with fear, struggling a little more and being swept off of her feet suddenly and thrown next to her Master, who glared at Bulstrode, still struggling against his restraints whilst trying to stand in front of Hermione.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him." Umbridge looked back towards her desk that bore a picture of the Minister, and though it was facing way from her, she smiled at it sickeningly, "Doesn't even know I sent those Dementor's for you over the summer does he, loved a chance to expel you though." She turned back to Master Harry who made a sudden lunge for her, his fists scrunched up tightly, looking as though he were about to hit her sharply in the nose,

"You-" He began, but she threw him back, her voice high and shrill,

"Silence!" Shaking herself a little, she lifted her wand high, Hermione, pushing her Master out of the way as hard as she could, "Cruc-"

"NO!" She screamed, Umbridge turning to face her suddenly, "No! Please Master Harry! Please just tell her!" The Professors eyes lit up instantly, but his fell in shock and disgust at the mention of him giving the game away, but also in confusion as to how she could have possibly known what he was doing.

"No way!" He shouted back, almost spitting spitefully at her stupidity,

"Just do it! She'll force it out of you anyway!" Hermione began sobbing, or pretending to at least, collapsing to the floor in a giant heap, creating a big a scene as she possibly could, fully aware that all eyes were on her, particularly the appalled eyes of the Gryffindors, who looked down on her with hatred.

"Well, well, well!" Umbridge quickly whipped her wand away and walked over towards Hermione, putting an arm around her and bringing her towards Master Harry, placing her gently in a comfortable armchair where she continued to sob, feeling exhilarated at the lie she was about to tell, wondering if she really could get away with it for long enough, "The little Mudblood may be use for something after all! Come on then girl, come on!" Umbridge urged her, shoving tissues into her face, which Hermione accepted, pretending to dab her eyes in order to cover the fact that no tears were actually falling from her eyes.

"Er-my-nee...NO!" Her Master half screamed, lunging forwards. She looked to her and shook her head, drawing as big a shuddering breath as she possibly could, trying to flush her cheeks,

"Come on!" Umbridge urged her excitedly, shaking her shoulders a little,

"He was trying to get in touch with Dumbledore! He needs to know it's ready! The weapon is ready!" Hermione threw her head back into her hands, sobbing violently once more at her 'betrayal', seeming to be the only one in the room to notice that her housemates had stopped struggling and were all staring at her wide eyed and open mouthed.

"Right. Let's go then shall we my love? And we'll take Harry too dear, just us. That's go and see it." Umbridge tried to muster the most motherly voice she could, patting Hermione gently upon the head and shoulder, rubbing her arm a little before standing and offering her hand. Rubbing her eyes with one hand, Hermione gave another gulping gasp and then accepted it with her other,

"Okay, yeah, we should do that. It's for the best." Both smiling at one another, they began walking towards the door,

"Good." Dragging Master Harry with her, she turned momentarily towards the Slytherins, "Make sure they don't escape!" Whipping out her wand, she smiled down at Hermione once more and extended her arm forwards, giving Harry a shove with the other, "Lead on my dear."

~x~x~x~

There they stood, directly upon the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, the balmy evening air cooling their bodies as they waited patiently. "Is it in Hagrids hut?" Umbridge addressed Hermione eagerly, ignoring the Forest completely,

"Of course not, he might have accidently set it off!" Sheblabbered, knowing the professor would agree instantly,

"Yes," She said, her excitement mounting, "Yes he would have. Great half-breed oaf that he is." She laughed at her own comment, a strong urge building within Hermione to turn around and lamp the old toad as hard as she could and then run for it, having to suppress her anger and turn it into her own evil, high pitched laugh, noting how Harry glared at her, saying nothing.

"It's in there." Hermione stated casually, extending a hand towards the forest, as if it were nothing, "Away from the students, you understand." Hermione smiled back at her, both of them seemingly apprehensive, though she refused to show it, carrying on her charade.

"In you go then!" Umbridge gave Harry a push, Hermione going in herself without the need to be forced, taking the lead once more, since Master Harry obviously had no clue as to where they were going. All she could think about was her Master, still up in that office with those awful Slytherins, anything could have been happening to him. Every so often she would here Umbridge call out, "Are we there yet, my dear?" Giving a short reply of,

"Not yet Professor. Just a little further now." Knowing that Umbridge would struggle to keep up because of her short, stumpy legs, Hermione quickened her pace, hearing the Professors ragged breathing and feeling Master Harry's piercing stare upon her back, knowing he was obviously very confused about where they were going. On top, Umbridge was making a hideous amount of noise as she traipsed after them, Hermione adding to this by purposefully taking a route that was covered in brambles and thick vegetation which had to be shifted in order to pass. Catching up to her as the light faded, Harry took her arm as she shouted 'a little further' back at Umbridge once more,

"Be quiet Hermione! You don't know what's listening to us!" He hissed, pretending to steady her as she stumbled,

"I want us heard. You'll see" He let her go, his misgivings increasing, but deciding to just go with it and trust her as he had done so many times before. Stepping into a clearing, it was obvious that Umbridge was becoming ever more disgruntled, unaware of the unseen eyes that were watching her. An arrow flew suddenly through the air and landed with a menacing thud by Umbridge's head, causing her to shriek loudly, running behind Harry, and using him as a human shield as a great heard of centaurs crowded around them, hooves pounding into the ground, causing it to quiver and quake beneath them. Hermione smiled a little as a chestnut bodied centaur stepped forward, bow raised in their direction.

"Who are you?" HE asked, looking lazily towards Umbridge's raised wand,

"I am Dolores Umbridge!" She shrieked painfully, "Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic and Headmistress and High Inquisitor of Hogwarts! So I am warning you, you stupid half breed-"

"How dare you! You despicable woman!" Hermione rounded on her, shocking her,

"And you, you filthy Mudblood!" There was a rush of hooves as the centaurs suddenly charged, Hermione being thrown to the ground by Master Harry, face down on the Forest floor, terror leaping through her as they jumped over them or ran around, screaming with rage. With Umbridge herself screaming, she was lifted into the air, attempting to fire stunning spells all around her, to little avail, screaming into the distance.

"And these?" Came a voice from behind them. They spun to see a few remaining centaurs baring down upon them, "They brought her here, and must suffer the consequences." Raising their hooves ready to strike, Master Harry pulled Hermione behind him, yet all turned suddenly as a loud crash came from the edge of the clearing. Two trees were suddenly parted and the monstrous form of Grawp appeared, raging in an apparent tantrum.

"Oh my god..." Hermione took a hand to her mouth, looking absolutely terrified up at Grawp, his lopsided mouth gaping stupidly, his brick like yellowed teeth glimmering in the little light that there was as he opened his mouth wide,

"Hagger!"

"What the hell is Hagger?" She sobbed, seemingly about to cry, but then stopped suddenly, her brain engaging, "Wait...Hagrid?" Grawp's head suddenly whipped around in their direction, the centaurs raising their loaded bows high up at his face. She began physically and visibly shaking as Grawp took a step closer, taking hold of Master Harry's arm and squeezing as tightly as she possibly could, wondering how she had got herself into such an awful situation in the first place.

"HERMY! WHERE HAGGER?" He addressed her directly and she squealed back, terrified,

"I don't know, I'm sorry, I just don't know!"

"GRAWP WANT HAGGER!" He reached down towards them and she shot backwards, falling over in the process, looking on in horror as arrows shot directly at his face, puncturing him and causing him to howl in pain, pebble sized droplets of blood showering them. As she sat there in horror, Master Harry had taken his chance and dragged her to her feet, turning from the clearing and making for the edge of the forest, not stopping, never wavering until the crashed back into the grounds, both falling back onto the grass, panting heavily. A loud roaring reached them from the Forest, causing nesting birds to evacuate their homes suddenly,

"Grawp..." She said quietly, regretting abandoning him to save herself,

"He'll be okay," He said, pushing himself up to his feet, legs shaking slightly. She nodded and then attempted to get up herself, legs feeling like jelly, but she simply fell back down, instead resting her back against a tree with her hands above her head, panting.

"Master Harry, please, tell me what's going on." He looked at her apprehensively, but guiltily, hating that she had just done so much for him despite knowing nothing about what had been going on.

"Just the quick version, okay?" She nodded back at him, grateful that he could at least trust her with something. " There's a place in the Ministry of Magic, called the Department of Mysteries, knowing you, you'll know what I'm on about, even if you're not meant to," He raise an eyebrow at her and she blushed scarlet, nodding slightly, "Well, I had this dream, but it wasn't a dream, it was a vision. Sirius is there. Voldemort's going to kill him. I have to get there." She sat in silence, not even looking at him, feeling as confused as ever, always having been hesitant of prophetic visions and their confusion with vivid dreams. Yet she could see no reason as to why he would lie to her, surely he would have simply told her nothing rather than creating some kind of fantasy.

"How are you planning to get to London?" She asked quietly looking up at him, yet they were interrupted by a familiar voice and as they turned around Master Ron cam into sight, leading the others towards them. Hermione stood up instantly, "Master!" Running to him, she stopped inches away, taking a hand to his face and wiping his ever worse bleeding lip,

"It's alright Hermione." He took hold of her wrist gently and drew it from his face, smiling a little, "Right, any ideas?"

"How the hell did you get away?" Asked Master Harry, half astonished that they had come to be here.

"Couple of Stunners, a Disarming Charm, Neville brought off a really nice little Impediment Jinx," He said airily, brushing himself down, 'But Ginny was best, she got Malfoy - Bat Bogey Hex - it was superb, his whole face was covered in the great flapping things. Anyway, we saw you out of the window heading into the Forest and followed. What've you done with Umbridge?"

"Let's just say, centaurs and Grawp. I'll explain later, we don't have time." Master Harry replied, nervous and anxiously shuffling about where he stood, taking his wand back as Mistress Ginny handed it to him.

"Shall we fly then?" Came the voice of Mistress Luna, in the closest thing to a matter-of-fact voice she had ever been known to use, causing them to look at her bewildered.

"You lot aren't going anywhere and we don't have brooms anyway!" He spat at her furiously, wondering how she dare assume that she was welcomed along.

"Harry Potter, you shut up!" Ginny cut in, giving him a little push, Neville looking at him determinedly,

"We want to help."

"We we're all in the DA. There's a reason for it." Luna finished, looking perfectly pleased with herself as he squirmed under their gaze.

"We still can't get there, even if you were all coming anyway!" Master Harry folder his arms defiantly, turning to look exasperatedly at his ginger haired friend.

"I've already settled it, we're flying." She repeated ephemerally, causing his anger to sky rocket, openly beginning to rage at her,

"No. We're-" Yet Hermione interrupted her, watching how Mistress Luna's eyes had been flicking to the Forest behind her,

"Flying. We'll fly. Thestrals. Right?" She received a polite smile and nod,

"That's what you get for being covered in blood." Luna gave a small chuckle which unnerved Hermione slightly.

"Right, well there's five here now, that's enough. Hermione, you go back to the castle and-" Said Master Harry angrily, turning to see them appearing from the Forest, one licking his sleeve a little, where a large damp patch of blood had soaked in.

"No! You are not leaving me behind!" Hermione suddenly cried, feeling immensely betrayed after all she had endure for him that night.

"Don't be stupid! You'll just get killed!" Interjected her own Master, as they all began mounting the invisible horses with Master Harry's help.

"The amount of times I've almost been killed because of you two, don't you dare start being sympathetic now!" Hermione's face darkened suddenly, appalled that her Master would dare to tell her she couldn't come, her face darkening as she pointed her finger directly into his, despite him now being high upon the Thestral. "Plus, I'm meant to go everywhere with you, Master." Looking into his eyes, she knew she had won, the fire within her burning brightly. He screwed his face up tightly, not wanting to utter his next words as he extended an arm out to her,

"Get on."

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><p><em>Japan's Arc Angel x<em>


	19. Chapter Nineteen: No Place For A Slave

_This is it :D The second to last chapter! Only seven reviews away from the end! Am I the only one who's like sooooo excited? Even though I wrote this...hmm...But also, I would just like to throw out there that I found another website,** harrypotterfiction**, I suggest you check it out, there are some pretty awesome stories there, and I'm wondering whether to stick this up there too? What do you guys think? Or just stick to this site? Thanks for your continued support, and sorry about the kind of late upload, Happy Reading!_

_Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes :P_

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Nineteen: No Place For A Slave<span>

She sat, quite uncomfortably behind her Master, waiting patiently like the rest of them, completely unsure of what to do, or even if the animal would be able to take off with her astride it as well. Then, with a sudden sweeping moment that she hadn't anticipated, she felt its wings by her legs spread, and the horse like creature crouched, "Hold on." He said, rather wearily and anxiously, as he seemed to cling to the Thestral's neck in the process, knowing what was about to come. Quickly slipping her arms around her Master, Hermione held on tightly and braced herself as they rocketed upwards into the air, so far and so steeply that she felt as though she would become unhinged at any moment. As they levelled, still moving at an incredible pace, their background the castle and lake, surrounded by a blood red sunset, she could almost imagine that there was nothing wrong with the world, she and Ron were simply out together, taking a ride in the fading light upon such a beautiful day, that not a care needed to be given for the rest of the world. With the cool air slapping against her face ferociously, her eyes pushed themselves together and she leaned into her Masters back, almost affectionately, but definitely not wanting to find herself cascading through the air only to be mashed into the pavement at an unbelievable velocity. They were over the Hogwarts grounds; they had passed Hogsmeade; mountains and gullies paving the way below them. As the daylight began to steadily fail, Hermione could just make out small collections of lights as they passed over villages, then a winding road on which a single car was beetling its way home through the hills. "Stay with me okay?" Her Master shouted behind him, though she did not hear, barely caught any of his speech,

"What?" She asked, trying to prop her chin up onto his shoulder,

"I said, I want you to stay with me! Do you understand? I don't want anything happening to you!" She could see his ears turn scarlet as he spoke, but she leant in close, discretely kissing his ear,

"Sir." Sitting back, she clung to him further thinking how strange it was that, to her, she was speeding along violently at such a height, with no visible means of support, surrounded by the oncoming darkness as twilight fell, stars beginning to glisten through the velvet blanket above and around them. She was beginning to feel numb as they rode on, only the lights of towns and villages still visible through the darkness, only Ron's body keeping her warm as they flew. Yet now she was atop this invisible horse, on her way to the Ministry of Magic, it suddenly dawned upon her, exactly what she was doing. It was terrible enough as it was that she had had a Professor accosted, had spoken to her Master in such a degrading way, even entering the Forbidden Forest when she knew she should have not. And now she was heading to a place where no Muggleborn had entered and left again alive, wandless and unarmed, possibly threatening the lives of all of the others by being defenceless. She had chosen her own pride over their lives, the life of her Master. She shook herself, trying to dislodge the idea, the very possibility that she could actually die tonight, even see one of her companions die, and the guilt consumed her. Her stomach was churning, her mind racing as she tried not to cry, to push those thoughts to the back of her mind and bury her head into her Master's back, only letting out the smallest of sobs. She felt a hand press over hers as her Master had chanced letting go of their Thestral, trying to comfort her. Yet he had to hang back on quickly once more as they jolted suddenly as they began to descend, seemingly at an alarmingly steep angle, the two of them slipping forwards a little, able now to see lights and the tops of buildings becoming ever more visible, the horse suddenly touching the ground lighter than a shadow. Sighing heavily, she prepared herself to get down, but gasped as her Master toppled from the horse, smashing into the pavement with an alarming crack, returning to his feet quickly and patting himself down embarrassedly. Turning to her he took her hand without her real consent and dragged her down after him, rather unexpectedly, and she crumpled a little as she landed, only to be pulled back up by her busily muttering Master,

"Never again..." He looked around, almost as if to look for it, despite being fully aware that he was unable to see it. As the others dismounted Harry gave a sharp point in the direction of an overflowing skip and to an old, battered, vandalised telephone box, which all of them immediately made for, illuminated only by the iridescent glare of the orange streetlamps, bearing down upon them. Cramming inside, Hermione had been shoved between her Master and the glass window, his arm bent around her awkwardly hovering over the dial,

"Six, two, four, four, two." Came a crushed voice and he started jabbing away, the box giving a sudden violent, rattling shift.

"State you business." Came a cool female voice, drifting over them.

"Rescue mission," Hermione replied instantly, not thinking to wait for anyone else to speak, though slightly regretting it as she looked back to her Master, who raised an eyebrow at her. The pavement began to rise up around them, the Thestrals dipping out of sight, darkness closing over their heads with a dull grinding noise as the sank down into the depths of the earth. A sudden bright light filtered in around their feet, rising up their bodies and flooding the telephone box, revealing a large and open, empty Atrium,

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic."

~x~x~x~

Her Master gave her a small push out into the open, making her even more nervous than she had been before, glancing around cautiously, looking down the long hall, with its highly polished dark wood floor and peacock blue ceiling, golden symbols scattered all about it, moving sinuously as though it were some sort of notice board. As the other's followed her out, Master Harry set off at a run, straight down towards the end of the hall, passing dozens of gilded fireplaces, lining both sides of the walls, and half way down, a large fountain depicting a witch, wizard, centaur, goblin and house elf, jets of water spouting from various places, seeming to be the only source of sound within the echoing walls, other than the sound of their pounding feet. Chest tightening, Hermione could not fathom why everywhere was so empty, void of even security, chilling her deeply, resting as an ominous sign, her feelings of foreboding increasing rapidly with every step she took closer towards a set of around twenty lifts, just ahead of them. Reaching them first, Master Harry, jabbed the nearest 'down' button and a lift clattered into sight almost immediately, the golden grilles sliding apart almost ungratefully with a great, echoing clanking and they all dashed inside, not as crushed as they had been entering the building. Stabbing at the number nine button, the grills closed themselves behind Master Harry and the lift began to descend, jangling and rattling loudly, causing Hermione to cringe at the sound, having hoped that they would have been a little smoother and quieter as to not arouse suspicion and was astonished that security had not coming running at the sound, alerting the entire ministry. Yet the lift soon rumbled to a halt, the same voice announcing,

"Floor Nine. Department of Mysteries." The doors slowly sliding open, she began to quiver, having only heard about this particular department in passing and how they conducted confidential research regarding particular enigmas, including time, space, death, thought and love. Such an unknown place, a mysterious place, frightened her deeply, not knowing what would be inside, the hall already so different from the Atrium above with its black tiled walls, with no windows or doors apart from the one plain black door at the end of the corridor, leading into the department. The only source of light came from small torches lining the walls which glowed blue-white along with a glimmering light from the top of a small flight of stairs leading to the floor above.

"Let's go," Master Harry whispered, and he led the way down the corridor silently, Mistress Luna right behind him, gazing around with her mouth slightly open as if, for the first time, she was actually surprised by what she was seeing.

"OK, listen," He said, stopping again within six feet of the door and turning to them all and then specifically towards Hermione. "Maybe...maybe a couple of people should stay here as a...as a lookout, and-"

"And how're we going to let you know something's coming?" The youngest Weasley asked, her eyebrows raised high under her fringe, happy to point out the flaw in his plan. "You could be miles away."  
>"We're coming with you, Harry," Added Master Neville, though his voice remained quiet, unnerving Hermione a little, now suddenly terrified that a boy who could defend himself with magic was equally as terrified as she was.<p>

"Let's get on with it," Her Master said firmly, seemingly trying desperately to not look at his slave, whose eyes kept busily flickering towards him for some kind of comfort that he was unable to give her in that moment. He pushed forwards, walking towards the door and it swung open for him allowing him to walk over the threshold, everyone as close behind as possible and into a large circular hall of dark marble flooring and ceiling, similarly lit by candles emitting a cool blue light. All around them were identical, unmarked, handleless black doors set in at random intervals, giving them the impression of walking out onto the ocean in the dark of night, its rippling black waters flowing underfoot.

"Someone shut the door," Master Harry muttered, terrifying Hermione immediately as the only true light was suddenly extinguished, turning the chamber so dark that only the ghostly shadows and reflections of the torches danced around them .Backing up a little she suddenly found a hand, just able to make out Master Harry's features as he tried to give her a reassuring smile, just as he had done when they first visited Grawp, trying to make her feel as secure as he possibly could, without lulling her into a false sense of security. Yet another hand suddenly found hers, linking fingers with her own, her Master towered over her, bringing a new reassuring sense of safety to her, but also a stomach crunching apprehension, leaving her unable to shake her fear for his life. A loud grumbling noise suddenly sounded, the candles suddenly shifting sideways as the wall began rotating at an alarmingly rapid pace, causing her to squeeze both of them tightly, almost terrified that the floor would begin to shift in the opposite direction. Yet it did not and for a few seconds, the blue flames around them were blurred, creating a full strip of neon around them, which all of a sudden, grinded to a halt, the walls becoming as stationary as they every had been, as though nothing had occurred at all.

"What the hell was all that shit about?" Whispered her Master, almost fearfully, in a voice she rarely heard or barely even knew that he could produce.

"I think it was to stop us knowing which door we came in through," His sister answered, her voice hushed and breathless. "So...where do we go?" She asked, looking to Master Harry, who simply closed his eyes, thinking hard,

"I don't-" He began, and then swallow heavily, clearly thinking how best to address the situation, "In the dreams I went through the door at the end of the corridor from the lifts into a dark room – that's this one – and then I went through another door into a room that kind of...glitters? We should try a few; I'll know it when I see it." He finished by nodding vigorously to himself, and Hermione felt now comfortable enough in her faith in Master Harry to release both his and her Master's hands, and did so, feeling her Master grapple for her a little, but then seem to accept that she did not need him any longer. Marching straight for the door ahead of them, it swung open readily and easily, opening up to them, inviting them into its unwelcoming darkness. As they moved further towards its centre, the lamps hanging low on golden chains from this ceiling gave the impression that this long rectangular room was much brighter, though there were no glittering, shimmering lights to be found here. The place was quite empty except for a few desks and, in the very middle of the room, an enormous glass tank of deep green liquid, big enough for all of them to swim in; a number of pearly-white objects drifting around lazily in it.

"What're those things?" Whispered her Master, lurching forwards a little curiously, a little sceptically.  
>"Aquavirius Maggots!" Cried Mistress Luna excitedly, clapping her hands together, yet Hermione gasped suddenly, lifting a hand to her mouth, realisation suddenly hitting her violently like a slap to the face. "Dad said the Ministry were breeding-" Yet Hermione could contain herself no longer, bursting out,<p>

"No." Barely able to speak, she strained to voice herself as they turned to face her, watching as she stepped forwards and around the side of the tank, "They're...brains."

"Let's go," Master harry said, a strange urgency in his voice, "This isn't right." They all turned, retreating back out of the door that they had previously entered, Hermione asking a seemingly obviously question,

"How will you know which door we've gone through?" Looking down to her, her Master whipped out his wand, turning back to the door,

"Flagrate!" He said sharply as the door closed swiftly behind them, a fiery 'X' appearing engraved into the door, and not a moment too soon, for as it clicked shut, the rumbling began once more, the walls rotating once more, stilling as they had previously, the used door now highlighted perfectly. She gazed up at her Master in awe, thinking how amazing he must be to have thought of such an idea so rapidly, despite her mind soon turning back to their current situation, remembering to follow the group as they did Master Harry as he strode towards another door. Running in behind them, she entered a room much larger than the first, dimly lit and rectangular, its centre sunken, forming a great stone pit some twenty feet deep. They were standing on the topmost tier of what seemed to be stone benches running all around the room and descending in steep steps like an amphitheatre with a raised stone dais in the centre of the pit, on which stood a stone archway, looking older and more ancient than should could have imagined, cracked and crumbling, looking as though it would shatter at the slightest touch. Unsupported by any surrounding wall, the archway was hung with a tattered black curtain or veil which, despite the complete stillness of the cold surrounding air, was fluttering very slightly as though it had been recently ruffled by a long gone passerby. Her stomach turned, and she could not shake the great feeling that someone was hiding behind the veil, waiting to jump out at them, or perhaps waiting for her to come to them.

"Please...Let's go." She said quietly, the room simply not feeling right to her, the fear within her even greater than it had been in the previous room, despite the odd beauty that the veil was seemingly emitting, intriguing her, but pushing the boundaries of her knowledge beyond something that she did not want, a place she felt she did not need to go, not for a very long time. "This isn't right. Let's go." She repeated, more forcefully, despite none of them paying her any attention, as she realised suddenly what she was hearing, murmuring, whispering, a distant voice coming from the veil. No, from behind it, or perhaps, within it? "We're supposed to be here for Master Sirius!" Something clicked, they turned, looking away from it and retracing their steps,

"Let's go." Master harry confirmed, only just managing to tear his eyes from the platform before him that he had previously been inching ever closer to. Without speaking, she took hold of Mistress Ginny's arm and dragged her from the room, knowing the others would follow as she did so,

"That arch...that arch is dangerous. Stay away from it." She said, addressing no one in particular, but asserting herself firmly amongst them. She may have had little knowledge of magic, but knew when her instincts told her something, and they were telling her that the room should be one that is sealed forever and should never be entered, particularly by those of weakened will power. As the door shut and her Master marked it once more, the room span and stilled once more, Master Harry moving towards the nearest door, pushing hard.

"It's...It's locked..." He said confusedly, throwing all of his weight against the door, even though it didn't move as he did so.

"That's bound to be it then?" Said her Master excitedly, but she shook her head, thinking carefully.

"No." He looked back at her, "No. This room should be left well enough alone. In Master Harry's dream it opened easily, this door, this door is dangerous." The bespectacled boy looked at her carefully and then nodded, understanding her immediately, motioning to her Master to mark the door once more, which he did so, rather begrudgingly, obviously longing to learn what was held within that particular chamber. Turning around he hurried over to the rest of them, who had already begun entering another room, one filled by beautiful, dancing, diamond sparkling light.

"This is it!" Master Harry cried, rushing forwards, in either excitement or anticipation, Hermione could not tell for sure. As her eyes became accustomed to the brilliant glare, she saw clocks gleaming from every surface, large and small, grandfather and carriage, hanging in spaces between the bookcases or standing on desks ranging the length of the room, so that a busy, relentless ticking filled the place like thousands of minuscule, marching footsteps, parading the room. The source of the dancing, diamond bright light was a towering crystal bell jar that stood at the far end of the room, tempting them forwards, beckoning their arrival. "This way!" He cried, lurching forwards, Hermione's heart beating faster than ever as they ran for the desk upon which the jar sat, appearing to be full of a billowing, glittering wind, illuminating a door directly behind it, which they all headed for immediately. Her anxiety sky rocketed, her nerves beginning to crackle through and causing her to physically shake with anticipation as the door swung open revealing a room, its ceiling as high as a church but full of nothing but towering shelves lined with small, dusty orbs. They glimmered dully in the light issuing from more candle brackets set at intervals along the shelves, the blue flames being the only heat source in such a cold room. "Be ready," Master Harry said, suddenly setting off at a sprint to the right, "Ninety seven!" Passing row upon row of orbs, they suddenly grinded to a halt, stood at the end of a row, gazing down it to find nobody there. "He's right down at the end, must be. We just can't see him." They set off again, running down the row, Hermione's mind now whirring massively, doubt setting in immediately. How could Master Harry have been wrong? How could Master Sirius not be here when he should have been so? Her mouth now exceedingly dry, only able to hear their footsteps as they went, nothing more echoing around them. Feeling violently sick, she stopped suddenly, looking terrified as her Master also stopped and turned around to look at her.

'What have I done?' She thought, suddenly terrified as he came towards her, a little on edge, a little more cautiously than she would have expected. He stopped suddenly, his eyes moving behind her head,

"Harry?" He called back at the others, who all stopped and looked back at them, "Have you seen this?" As Master Harry eagerly made his way back towards them, his face faltered as he realised that Ron was looking at one of the small dusty spheres, "It's – It's got your name on it." He stepped forwards, craning his neck upwards reading the spidery writing as Hermione did so, standing upon her tiptoes,

'S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D,

Dark Lord

And Harry Potter.'

He made a sudden grab for the sphere, apparently waiting for something to happen, though nothing did, it simply sat in the palm of his hand, glowing dimly. Hermione's skin suddenly began to crawl, feeling as though something was coming, something that could jeopardise them and their mission. A cruel drawling voice reached them from behind, sneering at them vividly,

"Very good, Potter. Now turn around, nice and slowly, and give that to me." She froze, not wanting to turn around, then finding that she didn't even have to as black shapes began emerging out of thin air all around them, blocking any means of escape. Thick hooded figures pointing their wands directly at each of them, causing her heart to plummet magnificently, fear creeping back into her as she studied their glistening eyes as they shone through from under their hoods, glaring at them viciously. She gave a small gasp and was suddenly pulled backwards, her Master's arm wrapped tightly around her shoulder and over her chest, pulling her back into his own, his wand protecting her heart as best he could. "To me, Potter." Repeated the drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy, their Deputy Minister, as he held out his hand, palm up, paying no heed of their obvious terror, Hermione realising that they were outnumbered two to one. "Give me the prophecy."

"Where's Sirius?" Master Harry demanded, causing all of the surrounding hooded figures, that she knew only as Death Eaters, to begin laughing ferociously, and in that instant, she knew. Master Sirius was nowhere to be found and they had been led directly into a trap, falling hook, line and sinker. Panic rising within her, she took hold of the arm in front of her, squeezing tightly, trying to ignore the impending dread that had been growing within her ever since they had found that particular row. "You've got him! He's here, I know it!" Even Master Harry now seemed afraid, afraid of what had happened and what he had led them into.

"The little baby woke up fwightened and fort what it dweamed was twoo," Said a hidden woman in a horrible, mock baby voice, giving a raucous scream of laughter after her mockery.

"Now Bellatrix," Said Malfoy softly, "Don't upset our dear Mr Potter, he needs to still give me the prophecy, and learn the difference between life and dreams." Hermione's chest constricted tightly, barely allowing her to breathe as that wretched woman's voice reached her ears, poisoning them, causing her to shiver, and knot in her stomach tighten.

"No." Master Harry said firmly, glaring back at them, seeming much braver than Hermione even felt at that moment in time.

"You asked for it!" Bellatrix seethed, raising her wand immediately, Malfoy lurching forwards towards her,

"NO! THE PROPHECY!" He cried, trying to drag her want from her, but she pulled away,

"STUPEFY!" An orb by Hermione's foot suddenly exploded, two ghostly figures wailing loudly before disappearing and melting into the air. Her eyes suddenly widened and she leant backwards, pushing herself up towards her Master's ear, whispering,

"Smash the shelves." He nodded, suddenly standing forwards,

"What's so special about this prophecy?" There came a rush of hissing and sneering from the group, but before there was any response given, he turned his wand above Malfoy's head, screaming, "REDUCTO!" The shelf behind them suddenly exploded as the curse hit, followed by more screams of the curse, as the others followed suit, the towering structures swaying as hundreds of glass spheres burst apart, pearly white figures unfurling into the air, their voices echoing in torrents as splinters of glass and wood rained down upon them.

"RUN!" Master Harry yelled, the shelves above them swaying ever more precariously as more spheres began to fall around them, all of them using their hands to shield their heads, other than her Master, who was trying to protect her as best he could, flakes of glass embedding themselves into his skull, no doubt painfully. Yet he was suddenly ripped from her,

"Keep running!" He screamed at her, not giving her time to argue as she sprinted after Master Harry, dragging Master Neville up with her as she went, urging him to move faster, seeing the door that they had come though ahead of them, still slightly ajar. Hurtling through it, Master Neville collapsed, dragging her down with him, as she heard Master Harry shrieked,

"Colloportus!" And the door slammed shut, sealing itself with an odd squelching noise. Lifting her head, she gave a quick look around her,

"Master?" Yet she could not see him, anywhere, turning once more, frantically, "Master? Ron!" She called loudly, desperate now to see him, "What do we do?" She looked to him, but he could give her no answers, his face away with misery and misfortune,

"Shit." He paused, seriously confused, clutching his head ferociously, and groaning with anxiety. "Right," He stood up straight suddenly, taking a deep breath as shrieks came from behind the door, accompanied by several shouts of 'Alohomora!', and dragging Master Neville to his feet he looked to Hermione, "Hide!" She nodded, shooting off, alone, in the direction of the far end of the hallway, her heart racing, bile rising up her throat, threatening to spill itself upon the floor in a violent fashion. Yet now she had reached the door, looking from the desks and tables and then back towards the door, wondering whether she should keep running, find her Master, know that he was alright. Nodding to herself determinedly, she yanked the door open, hearing a cry of 'Petrificus Totalus!' behind her as she slammed it shut, the room beginning to spin once more. Running towards one of the doors they had previously tried, she yanked it open brutally, throwing herself inside before stopping dead. The arch before her was still fluttering peacefully in a nonexistent wind, causing her chest to halt, ceasing entry of oxygen into her body as she stared at it, fear churning deep within her. She gasped suddenly, backing out of the door as quickly as she could, slamming it behind her, leaning back upon it, her chest heavily as she sobbed, hating that room. The feelings it brought into her were new and strange, made her knees weak, brought on a strangled sensation of apprehension, telling her that it was an important room, but one that would play its part before the night was up. Screaching towards another door as the walls grinded to a halt, she threw it open, surprised to arrive back in the Brain Room, finding the others in there already.

"Hermione! Merlin, we thought you'd be killed, you stupid girl!" Master Harry ran at her, dragging her back to them,

"'Mione!" Cried her Master, draping herself over her lazily and sloppily, frightening her increasingly as a black liquid dripped from his lips and onto her face, "Ha ha...we saw Uranus...get it? Your anus! He he he..." He let her go and walked away, towards the tank, ignoring them completely.

"I blew up Pluto when they came after us, but I think I got Ginny's ankle though, I heard something snap." Mistress Luna said, almost nonchalantly, "No idea what they did to him, or the spell. Almost couldn't even get him here." She gestured towards Ron and Hermione looked around to her Master, who currently had his face pressed up against the glass like a small child in a petting zoo. Suddenly whipping his wand out and pointing towards the glass gleefully he cried,

"Hey! Hey Harry! I think you should touch it! Here, I'll get it for you! Accio Brain!" He pointed his wand towards the glass, causing it to shatter, one of the octopus like brains shooting in this direction.

"Ron, NO!" Master Harry ran towards him, trying to shove hit out of the way, missing by inches as her Master caught it securely in his arms, dragging it into his chest, a large grin plastered upon his face.

"Harry, it'll suffocate him!" Mistress Ginny screamed, half dangling from Luna's shoulder, barely able to support herself for the pain she was in. The moment it made contact with his skin, the tentacles attached to it began spiralling around his arm, tightening, then spreading to his chest, and despite how he pulled and thrashed, they pulled tighter and tighter, refusing to break. He gave a small, pathetic laugh, a large bubble of blood popping out of the corner of his mouth as he fell to the floor, obviously in agony. Breathing heavily, Hermione looked over to him, her eyes swimming, her breathing rapid,

"Ron? RON!" Running in his direction as quickly as she could, a slash of purple flames suddenly hurtled across her, striking her chest viciously, causing pain to ripple through her, taking over her body and her mind, closing it to the world. The last thing she saw as she fell forwards, her arm outstretched towards her Master, was his face, painfully twisted, writhing in agony as she hit the floor, the world closing to her, dragging her into darkness.

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><p><em>Japan's Arc Angel x<em>


	20. Chapter Twenty: Slavery

_Here comes the final chapter...WOW...can't believe it's come so fast! Did have some issues, which included accidentally deleting it, having to completely rewrite it :( and this chapter may seem a little shorter than the others, but I hope it's an adequate ending, and I hope it pushes people to look further forwards and read my up coming sequel, which I am proud to announce will be known as **Slaves of The Master**. I would hope that you would review my final chapter, or even just the fiction as a whole and continue forwards, as I will, with both Ron and Hermione, into their next chapter. Happy Reading, and thankyou!_

_Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes :P_

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><p><span>Chapter Twenty: Slavery<span>

Turning over slightly, she groaned, a sudden urge to be sick over taking her as she gagged a little, opening her eyes in shock, only to be terrified further by what awaited her, "WHOAH!" She sat up rapidly, shuffling back at the same time, intent upon punching whatever had disturbed her, only to stop herself at the last moment, realising that what had greeted her so suddenly had been a particular, familiar head,

"Oh Hermione!" Arm's suddenly engulfed her, squeezing unnecessarily hard, threatening to pop her head clean off of her shoulders

"Carla. How are you?" She gasped, pulling at her stranglers arms desperately, who seemed to only suddenly notice what she was doing, let go immediately, blushing brilliantly. Giving a slight chuckle she intertwined her fingers and sat back in a chair next to Hermione's bed, shuffling a little in an attempt to make herself comfortable. Sighing and then smiling widely, she tried to ask in an airy a way as possible,

"Me? I'm fine, what about you? I heard you were really injured." Pulling a concerned face, Hermione raised an eyebrow at her, inwardly laughing at her attempts to over exaggerate her own emotions, to show her that she truly cared.

"No, no, I'm fine." She replied, but in truth, she ached all over, her body feeling weaker than it had in years, screaming at her for rest and for sleep. She could barely even remember what had happened to her, purple flashes dancing before her any time she strained her memory to retrieve the images that were now lost to her, stored carefully away in her mind where even she could not reach them. The door opened suddenly, grinding as it swung inwards, a battered bespectacled boy walking in, unsteady upon his feet. "Master Harry? What happened?" She asked quietly, seeing the solemn look upon his face, his crestfallen nature struggling to even keep face,

"Don't. Not now Hermione. Just don't." He said hoarsely, passing her bed, not even looking towards her, giving his own slave no acknowledgement.

"Sir." She said miserably, looking to her hands sadly. Shuddering a little, realising that she was wearing only a long red camisole and pulling the covers up over her shoulder. Glancing towards Master Harry, her stomach clenched suddenly, her own Master should be beside her, somewhere close, and seeing Master harry heading towards a curtained off bed a little way from her own, "Wait, Master! Is he in there? Is that him?" She made a sudden lunge as if to leap from her own bed and rush over, but was dragged back into a seated position by a slightly angered Carla, who glared at her profusely,

"Don't you dare move! You're very ill!" Pointing a finger at her, Hermione shook her head, giving a small laugh and raising her eyebrows in contention,

"I'm fine! Stop fussing woman!" Batting her away, she sat back, shrunken and dejected, collapsing back in her chair and twiddling her thumbs ferociously.

"Sorry...I just don't know what I'd do without you." She muttered, quieter than Hermione had expected, and she felt a little guilt upon her part for having snapped so suddenly. Placing a hand upon her knee, the two of them smiled a little; there moment interrupted as a shrill voice reached their ears, a new shadow appearing behind the curtain.

"Come on Potter, out of the way!" The elderly woman bustled Master Harry out from behind their cover, dragging the curtain along with her, unveiling her Master who was laid in his bed, not moving, barely breathing, his face beaten badly, ligature marks lining his arms and neck. "Honestly boy! He'll be perfectly fine! He's the last one to take care of now." Her chest swelling, she fought back tears, making another dive in a vain attempt to reach him,

"Ron!" She cried, making it halfway towards him before being dragged back by Carla, who was clinging to her furiously,

"Hermione!" Yet she ignored her, instead focusing upon the woman before her who was blinking furiously in confusion, straightening her robes and readjusting the cloth in her greying hair.

"Madam Pomfrey, is he alright? What's wrong with him? Can he hear me?" She asked furiously, giving no time for any kinds of answer, causing her to become ever more stressed with Hermione, her lips tightening, her face straightening,

"Please, Miss Granger! Back to your bed! Mr Weasley is in perfectly good hands. To. You. Bed!" Pointing viciously, Hermione nodded at her, backing slowly into her own bed, watching as the nurse walked around the side of her bed, giving her a strict glare and heading for the door, exiting swiftly. Yet her voice still travelled back into the room, obviously standing as close to the door as possible, "Ah, Master Malfoy. What bring you to my Hospital Wing?" A cold a drawling voice met hers, an edge of sweetness to it, as it trying to sound more polite than he was capable of,

"I require a moment with the Granger girl."

"Please, go right ahead." Footsteps indicated her retreat as the door opened once more, a chill crawling up Hermione's spine as in stepped three boys, the infamous Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy of Slytherin House.

"You there." He addressed her directly, startling her a little, causing her to respond automatically,

"Sir?" She sat up straight, almost regretting her decision immediately as a small smile graced his lips as he moved closer towards her bed, yet not coming near, simply standing opposite the vacant one to her left, closest to the door.

"You're not Potters slave at all are you? You belong to Weasley." He asked, eyes her a little, and then flicking to Carla and back to her suspiciously. She withdrew a little feeling the venom pulsating from him like pure darkness, flooding the room and suffocating her, choking the very air she was attempting to breathe.

"Yes Sir." She ungracefully spat at him, wanting him to leave immediately so that she could hide under her covers and shut out the world, draw his voice from her mind, silence him in any way that she possibly could

"And this is?" He sneered, gesturing flippantly to Carla who suddenly became terrified as he stared at her,

"Carla. She...She helps Master Harry." Hermione answered for her, knowing that it was unfair to ask her to respond to such an address, knowing that fear would only leave her paralysed and unable to move or respond, possibly send her into temporary shock.

"You're Potters slave? I must confess, I had assumed it a little odd that I had heard so many tales of a bumbling buffoon, and then you appeared, and you were not so. Perfectly less absurd now." Hermione suddenly became enraged, disgusted by how he dared to speak to such an innocent girl in such a way, her face burning with anger over her friends embarrassment.

"If you won't mind me saying, Sir, why have you come here?" She said, rather harshly, addressing him directly, glaring in his direction, not caring for the consequences, only for protecting her friend, whom she knew deserved no such treatment, no less from a boy who thought so little of either of them.

"Well, Grunge, Granger...whatever...you appear a strong character, would you agree?" He turned back to her, his arms now folded casually, a glimmer of a smile plastered upon his face, shadowing his pale features. Her eyes twitching unintentionally, she straightened herself, drawing herself as tall as she could without having to stand, elongating her neck beautifully and majestically, ignoring his snide comments, choosing to answer in a manner beyond her years,

"I am who I am, whether courageous or not, what is right is done and what is wrong is avoided." He raised an eyebrow at her smugly, taking a step forwards and placing his hands upon a small table that lay in front on the adjacent bed,

"Perhaps, but I have seen a strength in you, one that many females do not show. Where does this come from, such a pathetic Mudblood such as yourself, surely you should be worn down by now?" Mocking her, she seethed at his arrogance, wanting only to strangle him violently, to make him understand that if he were to treat people in such a way, he should also pay the price for his own insolence,

"If there is nothing within me to crush, then my own ambition will out. I do what I am set, as any slave should." As he eyes involuntarily flicked towards her Master, his followed, igniting as they both realised what she had done,

"Is it then perhaps, that you feel something for Weasley? Or is it a matter of pride? Of honour?" Grimacing, she retorted painfully, pushing her attraction to the back of her mind, dealing instead with her lack of affection,

"I harbour nothing for him, but the duty I must follow." His lips fell downwards, his eyebrows shooting upwards as he nodded his head from side to side,

"Really." He said, in a matter of fact tone, "You have settled it then." He stood up straight, a sudden smile appearing as he clapped his hands together gleefully, "Crabbe, Goyle." Snapping his fingers, the two burly boys made towards her, taking her forcefully by the arms,

"Wait, what?" She cried as they dragged her from her bed, "What are you doing?" She screamed ever louder as they pulled and pulled, her body suddenly defenceless, "Let go of me!" Yet they dragged her further, not caring how she had fallen so loudly from her bed, stumbled over her own feet as she was heaved roughly across the floor and thrown in front of Malfoy.

"Struggling is pointless, you know what has to be done, and it shall be. I can see it in your eyes, Muggleborn, you were meant for courage, knowledge and bravery."

~x~x~x~

Ron stirred feebly, his stomach churning, his head banging as his eyes peeled open, his vision blurred and difficult. A hand fell upon his arm suddenly from by the side of his bed, Harry peering over his sheets, clearly wanting to remain hidden, "Shh." He whispered, a finger to his lips, "Don't move, just watch. And don't give me away." Pointing towards the door, past Carla who was stood at the end of the next bed to his, he stifled a gasp, he eyes shooting open suddenly, and then closing them into a squint. Hermione, his slave, was busy being manhandled by Crabbe and Goyle, who were making her kneel before Malfoy, who was smiling down at her cruelly. His hearing still fuzzy, he could barely make out any of what they were saying, until her voice broke out over them loudly,

"I won't. I won't do it. Not for you, you selfish, arrogant boy!" His fists clenched tightly as his had lifted, smashing into the side of her face with a deafening crack, throwing her backwards, only still being held up by the other boys. He heard her drawn a great shuddered breath trying to smother her sobs, not show her weakness, trying to give a little laugh. The anger within him was strong, boiling over as each second passed by, his arms shaking with anticipation and helplessness. He had already allowed her to put herself in danger for him, had her injured, cursed in front of him, his own mind lost to helping her when she needed him the most, when he should have protected her. Now, here Harry was, asking him not to move to her aid, asking her to restrain the urge to drag her away from such an awful boy, send her away, back to her home, where no one else could touch her.

"Oh, you'll be good...Better get on with it then," Malfoy said, kneeling to her height, concealing himself behind her, only his voice reaching Ron's ears drawlingly. There came a sudden creaking and shuddering as the doors opened once more, an unfamiliar Slytherin boy entering, one that he had clearly never had the displeasure to meet. Though Malfoy stood, a pleasant smile upon his face as he pulled back from Hermione as she was dragged from her knees and to her feet, facing away from him. "Just in time Higgs." Malfoy extend an arm towards her, the boy nodding furiously, his eyes bulging with eagerness and enthusiasm, "So, let's get going." Higgs knelt slightly a small box clutched to his chest, doing something to her that Ron could not quite make out; only see her hair moving around rapidly as she shook her head, trying desperately to get away from him, her feet pushing against the floor as she withdrew in desperation. She suddenly gave a blood curdling shriek as she writhed in pain, being allowed to collapse to the floor, clutching her head desperately as Higgs stepped back and exited the room swiftly at a wave of Malfoy's arm, screaming louder than he had ever heard her before,

"NOOOO! NO! NO! NO!" His eyes slipped from her, not wanting to witness her pain, even if he did have to hear it, his eyes falling upon Carla was visibly shaking as she stood, looking so lost and unsure about what she should do, obviously fighting the same internal battle her was, resisting the urge to floor them, take Hermione's hand and run, far away, as far as needed, just to release her from such pain and cruelty. Yet as she gave a great gasping sob, Hermione's head suddenly spun around in her direction, seemingly remembering something that she had to do, drying her eyes quickly and pushing herself to her feet. Sprinting as quickly as she could she ran for her friend, throwing her hands over her shoulders as her knees failed, the two of the collapsing in each other's arms, hugging tightly, causing his heart to sink as he watched them.

"Hermione, Hermione what's going on? I don't understand!" Carla had begun to cry, shaking at the little clothing Hermione was wearing, she trying desperately to stay strong, hold back her tears to save Carla from herself. Pulling back, she took her hand, shoving something into her palm quickly and then forcing her fingers around them quickly and as tightly as she could.

"I've had enough of this." Malfoy stated blankly, giving a click of his fingers and both Crabbe and Goyle made the short distance towards her. Staring behind her quickly, Hermione turned back to Carla, taking her by the head and pressing her lips to her forehead forcefully,

"It'll be alright, I promise, I promise you!" She was suddenly dragged upwards and backwards forcefully, the crooks of her elbows being painfully seized by her powerful Slytherin assailants. Clutching her close hand to her chest, Carla held out the other towards her, crying devastatingly,

"Hermione!" Making to run after her, Hermione shook her head furiously as she was spun around to face the door, looking back over her shoulder and shrieking,

"Don't! But don't you give up either. Promise me you won't give up! Don't you dare give in to any Pureblooded fool who thinks he can control you!" Struggling desperately to pull away from the boys, digging her bare heels as far into the floor as she could do, seemingly unable to even hear Carla's reply,

"I won't, but..." Then he saw her, she looked directly to him, saw his eyes were slightly open, witnessing everything that was happening to her, and her face suddenly lit, causing her to struggle even more, furthering his desperation to run to her,

"Ron? Ron!" She was calling to him, in her most desperate time of need, calling his name. Not relying upon her 'Master', wanting him to come to her, and all he could do was lay there, pretending not to even be conscious, his body aching and barely able to move as it was, under instruction from Harry, undoubtedly for a very important reason. Yet she called out to him again, hysterically now, realising that her options were dwindling. He was awake and not helping her, not even raising his voice in protest. He saw her face fall, obviously crushed that he had officially abandoned her, abandoned her to an oncoming punishment that she did not deserve, and no doubt would not live through, "ROOON! Ron, please, stop this!" Yet still, he did not stir, not even as she was dragged over the threshold, Crabbe and Goyle still visibly struggling with her violent protests, his hand upon the door, dragging them closed, Malfoy laughed at her sobs,

"He can't, and he wouldn't anyway. You are worth everything to me and nothing to them." The doors grinded shut, leaving them in silence but for the echoing of her screams drifting back to them painfully,

"Please. No! NO!" Her voice fading, finally falling to nothing. His stomach churned, not allowing his mind to free itself from thinking that the last time he would ever hear her voice, see her face, and she had been pleading for her freedom, maybe even her life, and he had simply followed orders, stayed put, and allowed her to be taken. Harry sat up, reappearing beside Ron as if he had Apparated back into the room. He was staring at Carla, as she still sat on the floor, silently crying to herself, only raising her head when her Master stood, staring at her sceptically, and asked her a shattering question,

"Carla? What did she give you?" Her sobs stopped immediately, as though she had only just remembered that she clutched something, the last thing of Hermione's, tightly within her hand. Gingerly, stumbling to her feet, she stared at her closed palm, and Ron understood why. He neither did not want to know what was concealed within her small fingers, the fear resonating from his body immense and overpowering, willing her to throw whatever it was out of the window, never looking even once. Her mouth opened several times, struggling to even string a sentence together,

"I...I don't understand. What...What..." Harry moved closer towards her, standing at the end of his bed, looking at her suspiciously, and then to her hand, ever more apprehensive about what was inside it,

"What did she give you?" Ron sat up a little, resting on his elbows, the dread that filled him as her fingers began to unfurl, her eyes widen as one word escaped her breath,

"Hermione..." Dropping the objects suddenly, as though they had scolded her, she watched as they fell, hitting the floor with a soft clinking as she gasped, her head lifting towards the door in pure horror, suddenly running towards it, pulling at the handle in desperation. "Hermione! Wait! Please! Hermione!" As the door shut behind her, Harry knelt down, picking up the fallen objects and turning to him, his face white and staring. Ron was panicking furiously now, his breathing rapidly increasing in pace as a glint of gold passed him by, as he realised exactly what they were. The objects he had become so accustomed to over the past five years, had seen them every day, had admired their beauty and ravished in their symbolism. She had been his with them, and now as Harry held up her earrings, their shine now dull and paling, he knew that he had lost her. His eyes screwed up tight and a hand to his head, he leant back into his pillow, crushed inside, only just able to expel,

"Shit..." A single tear slipping from his eye, just as Carla rushed back through the doors, her chest heaving as she lamented, collapsing into the door as she shut it, screaming manically,

"She's gone."

* * *

><p><em>Japan's Arc Angel x<em>


	21. Author's Note

Author's Note

_I'd just like to add this final note to thank every single person that reviewed and followed this story, whether from the start or even randomly half way through its creation, and I would hope that it will continue to spread the word of AU and OOCness fictions through the Harry Potter universe. I would also like to thank my boyfriend (who most likely will never ever read this) but he has helped in so many ways, especially when I have received such appalling e-mails in regards to this fiction at times. However, I am happy to be continuing this fiction to higher and more exciting levels of writing and I hope that some of you will join me in that journey! So thank you, once again, and Happy Reading!_

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_So thank you very very much and I look forward to you joining me in Slaves of The Master!_

_Japan's Arc Angel x_


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